


The Blissful Torture of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

by Madzie2000



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU - Ministry of Magic Forces Unmarried Witches and Wizards to Marry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6726010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie2000/pseuds/Madzie2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As per the agreement between the Ministry and single Wizards and Witches, they must live with their partner for a minimum of 5 years. Being enemies as they had years ago, can Draco and Hermione open up to one another or will the next 5 years of their lives be a living hell in Malfoy Manor?</p><p>I hate to say it, but I have a very small recollection of the Ministry of Magic, Wizarding Law and Malfoy Manor so give me a break Potter fans! (Haven’t seen the movies in over 5-8 months and I want to see them again very badly!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laying Down The Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione Granger is present at a courtroom within the Ministry of Magic after the spilling of so much Wizarding blood. As per the agreement between the Ministry and single Wizards and Witches, they must live with their partner for a minimum of 5 years. Being enemies as they had years ago, can Draco and Hermione open up to one another or will the next 5 years of their lives be a living hell in Malfoy Manor?
> 
> *Updating to a new layout and editing before a true critic (my mother) reads this, so feel free to read again for small additions and better grammar.

Hermione stood in a familiar room, where she Harry and Ron had once stood in the forms of 3 random adults to steal Salazar Slytherin’s locket and free her fellow Muggleborns. A Ministerial Judge sat in the centre of the room on a podium, the other members surrounding him in different sections according to their rank.

“By order of the Ministry of Magic, all single witches and Wizards must form couples to regrow our Wizarding population here in the United Kingdom. You will all be sent letters as to whom your selected partner is and it cannot be changed or argued for 5 years. However, an act committed by your partner illegal by the Ministerial Laws **can** be argued in these courts. Until then, we wish you all an enjoyable marriage to you and your significant other. Hopefully we won’t see all of you in that time. Sincerely, the Ministry of Magic,” the man read  out aloud.

Hermione was taken aback by such an informal and blatant letter of forced marriage. In foreign countries little girls were forced to marry men much older than them so how would this be any different? The Gryffindor found herself hoping and praying that she didn’t get paired up with somebody she’d hate. Hermione left the Ministry of Magic in a huff, staying out at night, waiting for the Knight Bus. The driver gladly accepted a friend of Harry Potter and such a kindly witch. They took her to the Hogwarts Express, where she travelled back to Hogwarts in the hopes of working there in exchange for a place to sleep. Her losses ripped her heart out of her chest and she let it show while she sat on the train, finding the cart she’d shared with Ron and Harry that first year that had led to this day; the same cart, the same place but a whole new meaning. She was homeless and her fight with Ron over his actions during their final stand had broken what will she had left to continue the relationship. Without Harry they probably would have torn each other to shreds with spells and hexes. At the school Professor – _no, Headmistress_ – McGonagall offered her solace in exchange for her exceptional skills in casting charms and creating her own spells.

“In order for you to keep staying here Miss Granger I ask you of one thing; are you still one of the best students at this school?” McGonagall said with a mischievous grin.

For some reason she didn't  understand, Hermione had the same expression on her face.

“Of course Headmistress,” Hermione said with a respectful tone.

“Don’t flatter me dear, just call me Professor,” McGonagall said in kind.

Hermione nodded respectively and walked in, greeted by a horrible sight. Somebody in a black cloak apparated in the middle of the doorway. Professor McGonagall immediately aimed her wand at their back, as did Hermione. The beast stood there, head darting left and right. He was looking for someone of something and he wanted it now.  

“Turn around slowly and reveal yourself!” the Professor commanded.

The creature turned and its cloak hung low over its pale face, lips moving with a sincere smile as it spoke.

“I’m only here for my wife,” said a familiar voice.

The hood fell back as they let their head stand as proudly as they did. It was the ferret in the flesh; the platinum blonde git of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy.

 


	2. Coming and Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds out who her new partner is and Draco makes a big mistake; is Narcissa as forgiving  
> as she was with Harry Potter or will she unleash motherly fury on her new daughter-in-law?

Hermione’s face fell from happiness, joy and a smile to confusion dread and a deeply furrowed brow that made Draco sick. _I knew the cloak was a stupid idea! Why did I let mother give me advice on meeting girls? I did fine on my own when I was here last…_ Hermione could see that Draco was thinking and she became less scared than she was before.

“Draco Malfoy were you trying to give us ladies a heart attack?” Professor McGonagall snapped in his direction.

Draco suddenly became defensive, but not as prudish as he had once been.

“Of course not Professor, I just didn’t want anybody to see me after what happened with our last Headmaster.”

The two women were sceptical, but gave each other a glance that said he wasn’t lying about his reasoning for the cloak. The other reason was still to be uncovered.

“I never got a letter from the Ministry saying that you’re my husband, so where’s your proof Malfoy?” Hermione said loudly so that McGonagall knew she  was in her rights to deny him.

Draco calmly pulled an opened letter from his robes under the black cloak and gave it to Hermione. The young witch reading to the end before handing it to McGonagall.

“I’m sorry dear, but it’s very real,” McGonagall said wth a grim look  on her face.

Hermione looked at Draco and glared at him like she never had before; she looked like a lost puppy.

“Ms Granger has no home, so I expect you to take care of her Draco; all people within Wizarding society will be eager to see how much the Malfoy’s have changed. I wish you both good luck and a good morning,” the older witch said with a nod, returning to the repairs on the castle.

Draco put out his hand for Hermione and she denied him. Instead, she backed away and held her magical purse in both hand.

“Hermione please, if you don’t come with me the Ministry will be at us for weeks. God knows they might even send me back to Azkaban,” Draco pleaded forcefully.

Hermione stared into his eyes, realising that they weren’t green as she had always thought, but were instead a rare grey. It was as if the colour had been sucked out of them by a Dementor. They were full of fear and she suddenly entwined her hand with his, the pair apparating into Malfoy Manor. Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw that they entered a dark room of wood painted and polished with black, grey and rare spots of colour from books on impossibly tall shelves. The last time she had seen this room Bellatrix Lestrange had carved out that word her new husband used to call her up until their final year at Hogwarts. Now he would have to share his home, his bed and even his body with her. Seeing the terror on her face, Draco let his thoughts flow freely in his mind. _Hermione Granger will sleep with me when flying pigs glide over a frozen hell. I was such a git when we were younger and I was just as bad when we got older, so why would she let me so much as look her?_ Suddenly aware of her hand on his, Draco looked down and felt a grin spread across his face. It disappeared when Hermione moved away and ripped her hand out of his, turning on him with her wand out and ready to attack. He hadn’t even been thinking of where they were, let alone how he would introduce his new muggle wife to his pure-blood mother.

“Why did you bring me in here of all places?” she asked him as tears formed in her eyes, making them appear glassy.

Draco stared at her for a moment and remembered that horrid scene of Hermione writhing in the floor as his Aunt ate away at her flesh, proving how much Malfoy was really in her heart. Those screams echoed through his mind and got louder until he could take it no longer, his body falling to the floor. Narcissa entered the room and saw Hermione there, wand out and her son on the floor. What else could have happened?


	3. Meeting The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa looks after her son and Hermione, filling the muggle in on their struggles since the war. However much she had  
> hated Draco before, Hermione sees what the torment the ferret had gone through since leaving Hogwarts in shame.

Narcissa was standing in the doorway and ran to Hermione.

“What did he do? Did he hurt you dear?” Narcissa said as her eyes glided over Hermione's arms and legs, her hands comng to rest on the young woman's shoulder.

Hermione saw the genuine caring in Narcissa’s eyes and saw why Draco obeyed his father but truly followed his mother; she was full of kindness despite her husband and son’s rude acts. Secretly, Narcissa wished Draco had been paired with another pure-blood, but was as surprised as Draco to see **her** name on the folded parchment.

“No. He fainted and I don’t know why,” Hermione said as she stowed her wand away in a concealed pocket in her long sleeves.

Narcissa ushered Hermione into the hallway and picked her son up from the ground, the thick cloak falling from his body. Hermione’s mouth dropped for two reasons; the first was the woman’s strength. The second was Draco’s lack of flesh, almost skin and bone under his clothes. Now she was beginning to feel sick.

“Don’t stare too long or you might burn holes in him.” Hermione suddenly realised what she was witnessing, her mind catching up with her eyes and facial expression.

“Don’t you want any help Mrs Malfoy?” Hermione asked her new Mother–in–law.

“I’m fine. I have plenty of muscle and Draco doesn’t weigh much more than a Phoenix’s tail-feather to me.”

Hermione nodded, quietly wishing Narcissa would let her help. As if hearing the girl’s silent plea, Narcissa glanced at Hermione again.

“Do Muggle women know how to make tea like a witch?”

The small smile on her lips was all it took for Hermione to leave the room and search for their kitchen. As she walked past a small room, she was convinced that she saw Lucius staring at her from the shadows, proud and graceful as ever. The footsteps behind her confirmed that she was being followed, her feet starting to keep to the rhythm of her heartbeat. A large hand wrapped itself around her ankle and teeth – _for Merlin’s sake, did Lucius Malfoy just bite me?_ – stabbed her flesh. Hermione kicked about and screamed, Narcissa hearing her from Draco’s room. _He’s done it again!_ Hermione looked down at her ankle and saw a small figure run away, undoubtedly a house elf. Those pointy ears and frail appearance were far too easy to spot and differed a lot in height compared to humans.

“You brute!” Narcissa said with fire in her eyes.

Narcissa rounded the corner and saw Hermione on the ground, a bite mark on her leg and an expression that could make Voldemort cry. The kindly witch put out her hand for Hermione, helping the girl stand and limp away to a sitting room of similar design to the lower library. Directly across from the lounge was a small kitchen that had definitely been downsized.

“I’m sorry about all this; everything has been in disarray since Lucius died. Draco’s upstairs fast asleep and he won’t wake up for a while. That leaves us to talk of this… long-awaited introduction,” she mused.

“I hate to bring up so many bad memories for you Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione said gracefully.

Narcissa smiled as she tried one of Severus’ healing spells he’d taught her, the same that had healed her son’s gashes when Harry used Sectumsempra, nearly causing his untimely death. Hermione slid her leg off of Narcissa’s knee, the witch announcing that she had done what she could. She smiled and acknowledged Hermione’s respectful tone and graceful articulation.

“There are many things that you need to know and one of them is that I can’t stand being called Mrs Malfoy. Just call me Narcissa. Now, what would you like to hear first?” she said as they had the same realisation: _I judged a book by it's cover_.

 Narcissa’s eyes were on Hermione’s face and she read the young woman like a book.

“Maybe I should start with everything that happened after the war ended. That seems like the logical place to start doesn’t it?” Hermione listened as Narcissa told her the story, both of their imaginations running wild.

“We were hunted down and sent to Azkaban when we arrived after fleeing the castle and sentenced to 3 months without our wands or magic of any kind. It almost drove Lucius to insanity and he drank like a Muggle man might if he were depressed. Draco on the other hand nothing but read books and stay in his room, barely eating as much as a mouthful. One day he and I found my husband in his study… he’d slit his wrists Hermione, almost to the bone. It was Draco and I who told the Ministry that he had passed and they gave us back our wands after less than a month; every human, Muggle or not, seem to have kind hearts. If you’re anything like Harry then you might be able to help him. Draco needs somebody in this time and you seem to be it, so help him. I’m begging you.”

 

Narcissa’s eyes had welled up and finally the tears fell, landing on her flowing robes. They used to be completely black, but now it had become a deep burgundy, a faint hint of colour in the bleakness that was Malfoy Manor.

“I promise you that I’ll try Narcissa, but I can’t make you any guarantees. You know how much Draco disliked me when we first met, surely?” Hermione asked expectantly.

Narcissa laughed and smiled, the tears being put on pause.

“Haven’t Muggles taught girls what we wizards have? Boys tease girls that they enjoy the company of and I don’t recall Draco ever having an issue with a Muggle-born girl like you. He may be a Malfoy but he’s not as cruel as his father was. Believe it or not, Lucius used to be a kind man: Voldemort changed him form that with his talk of power and the Malfoy ideal of Pure-bloods ruling over every magical being in existence. I agreed with that idea until I saw Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived – on the ground, so close to death for the sake of **every** being in the wizarding world. I lied to that beast so that Harry could save us all from a fate worse than death.”

Narcissa’s voice deepened and became almost a whisper, Hermione leaning in close to her mother-in-law to avoid missing out on anything important in her words.

"I know Draco felt it too but he won’t admit it to anybody. I’ve heard him cry late at night, using a Silencing Charm of all things to hide his pain. I’ll leave you to soak it up dear, so feel free to explore, but never go down that hall. Lucius ordered our newest house elf to stay and guard his belongings and repels every spell I cast at him. In a Museum those objects would at least be in safe hands,” Narcissa said with disdain.

Hermione watched Narcissa leave, her own emotions betraying her as the long robes disappeared from her view. She let tears fall from her eyes for a few moment and gathered up the courage to ascend the tall staircase. As she looked to her left, she found a room with the letter D engraved onto the door with gold paint along its inner edges. It could only be one person’s room  and she noted the lack of elegance about his bedroom door.  _I thought it was supposed to be him who got what he…_ Hermione stopped herself from thinking something so cruel. Maybe the Malfoy’s had really become a suitable family for her to join into, considering how inappropriate she was being.

“Malfoy? Are you awake?” Hermione said quietly as she opened the bedroom door.

Draco was in the room; he’d been fully awake but deadly silent and cursing himself for quite some time. How could he let his mind slip up and lead Hermione into **that** predicament of being in his arms in **that** place where his own flesh and blood had tortured her? He was so stupid to think that… wait, was she walking into his room? Hermione's hand sat on his shoulder, her body making the mattress sink under her weight as she leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“For everything you did to me when we were at Hogwarts I can forgive you, but the person you truly have to forgive is yourself… Draco,” Hermione said, the last word rolling off her tongue uncomfortably as if it was a foul curse.

 _She said my name…_ To the Muggle’s surprise, Draco sat up and looked into her eyes and let her see his bloodshot ones. The bags underneath them were black holes in comparison to the pale flesh he’d been living with since the war.

“I will never forgive myself, no matter how long you try for Granger, now leave me alone,” he said with an agression that should have scared her.

Hermione smiled at Draco and he pulled out his wand, hand shaking. It was as if he was scared of her and it confused her to no end, no matter how she thought it through.

"Leave!" he said in warning

Hermione slowly and gently put a hand on Draco's, the wand dropping from his hand as high-pitched sobs escaped from his throat as they had in the boys bathroom when Harry had found out that he hexed Katie Bell. _What's wrong with me?_  Hermione wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, her head pressing lghtly against the crook of his neck.

"And I will never forgive myself if I leave," she whispered as tenderly as she could manage.


	4. The Ferret Squeaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco says something hurtful to Hermione who decides to face her fears of the room he'd taken her to:  
> what will happen during their first family meal that will give rise to one of Draco's mood swings?
> 
> To those who know how it actually works, I apologise for incorrectly stating how people's ghosts/spirits are able to make themselves move in paintings long after their death in the Harry Potter universe, please forgive me.

Draco’s mind had let him down as had his emotions. The only person to see him cry was Harry Potter, who had always been his enemy. That was, until now, when an obviously distraught Hermione Granger latched onto him, legally married to him by The Ministry of Magic. _I’m married to her, to Granger! What do I do?_   Draco shifted in the witch’s warm embrace – which felt like a death grip – and stared down at her, head resting gently on his shoulder. Much as he wanted to stay that way, it wasn’t right for him to soak up her affections like a sponge. Hermione was trying to comfort him and that wasn’t what he wanted **or** needed; Draco needed a wife who’d love him for who he was, not pity him.

“Granger, could you let go of me please? You’re strangling me to death,” he said, managing a grin.

Hermione let go of Draco and watched his expression, seeing a sadness she knew too well.

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but for Merlin’s sake Draco eat something before you waste away. Your mother can’t handle the sight of you like this and neither can I,” Hermione said as she stood to leave.

When Hermione got to the door of the room, Draco spoke again.

“Don’t expect me to share a bed with you anytime soon Granger, not even for another hug,” he warned her.

The hate he’d injected into his facial expression had convinced Hermione of nothing; if the git wanted to suffer alone until he was ready to so much as **look** in her direction, she had no issues with it. As Hermione left the room, she closed the door, leaving a small crack in it so she could see what Draco would do. To her surprise, he stood up and got rid of the black robes, stripping down to a green singlet and a pair of shorts as black as the floor she stood on. Draco turned and glanced at the doorway and Hermione threw herself behind it. She couldn’t believe that he had become so frail, wrists as thick as her middle three fingers, ankles no better. _How has he survived this long?_   Draco walked to the door, opening it and poking out his head. Narcissa was downstairs, smiling as if she’d heard a funny joke.

“Something the matter mother?” he said in a sweet voice that  confused hermione.

Narcissa grinned at her daughter–in–law and Draco followed her gaze, seeing the Muggle behind his door. He hated the idea that a girl had startled him, but it was impossible to deny, considering that his mother and Hermione had heard a small cry which was made comical by the way moved back in a short jerking motion. A smirk snuck across his face and it warmed his mother’s heart. Hermione on the other hand found it a little odd. _Why is he so happy all of a sudden? It couldn’t have been anything I did…_ He was joking around with her as if they’d suddenly become best friends in the past few minutes.

“Bloody hell Granger! Are you planning to murder me?” he smiled, adding a fake laugh.

Hermione’s mouth dropped and Narcissa giggled, walking away. The moment she was out of view Draco went back to his stern, angry self.

“Stay away from my room until you want to come in for something other than my personal issues,” he spat at her. 

Taken aback, Hermione watched the ferret walk into his room and shut the door quite loudly, her heart beating quickly. Her mind went back to the desk in his room, a small pile of books sitting to one side. While the desk itself was rather dusty, the books looked as though they had been moved around or at least lifted up. Hermione descended the staircase and decided that it was time to face her demons, living or not. Entering the room she’d been tortured in by Bellatrix, Hermione sat in a rather comfortable chair by the large marble fireplace. She played through the scene in her head and let every detail flood her mind like a movie.

_There lay Hermione Granger on the floor, the hard wood pressing against her back. Her sleeve had been pushed up her arm so Bellatrix had a good view of her perfect skin. Bellatrix dove toward the Muggle’s arm and began her work, the screams echoing around the room and making her dig her teeth in deeper. Neither of them saw Draco in the doorway, his eyes never leaving Hermione’s body and she twisted and writhed under his Aunt, a single word on her arm slowly dripping blood. That word had been his finest insult toward Muggle-born witches and wizards, but now he saw it as a filthy word to be shown no respect. He hadn’t spoken to her yet and he doubted he would ever be able to if **He** had anything to say about it. Draco left and his mother saw the disgust in his eyes, but she said nothing; he was already under enough pressure. Bellatrix left Hermione there on the floor, the pain so tremendous that all she could do was inwardly curse the black-haired woman and stare into the distance as if she were dead._

Hermione closed her eyes and felt a sudden weight lift off of her shoulders, opening them again when she heard a floorboard creak. Draco was leaning on the doorway’s framework dressed in a more honourable manner. He had scrounged up a pale green formal shirt, a sleeveless grey knitted vest, a black tie, grey trousers and black shoes. It was almost identical to the clothing he’d worn when Harry chased after him having spoken to Katie Bell after she returned to St Mungo's. Harry had never seemed so angry at Malfoy before, but it was hard to deny that both parties felt guilty afterward; Draco for hexing Katie and Harry for injuring him. Of all the things Harry had told Hermione, his remorse for using the unknown spell on Draco was the hardest thing to say. Hermione realised that as she let her mind wander her gaze had been on Draco.

“Don’t go drooling over me, will you?” Draco said with what seemed to be genuine sarcasm.

“I feel underdressed seeing you like that,” Hermione admitted as a light blush graced her cheeks.

Draco grinned desite himself and tilted his head.

“Do you still have it?” Draco asked exectantly.

Hermione huffed amusedly.  _I may be a good witch but I don’t feel comfortable enough to practice Legilimency..._

“Still have what?” she said with a cautious voice, fiddling with the string handle of her purse as she stood and got closer to him.

“The dress you wore at the Yule Ball… with that Krumm fellow,” Draco said as the name sank in.

Hermione pulled the handle of her purse over her head and reached into it, pulling out the dress with a waterproofing spell of her own creation, giving it a pale blue glow. Removing the charm was simple; lightly shake the dress and the spells effects would fall like water droplets from a cloud. She of course planned to change the colour to a deep red... something less bright. To their horror the dress itself became water and fell onto the floor in a splash, nothing but a puddle on the floor. Hermione saw Draco pull out his wand and summon a backpack to himself, pulling something free from the backpack’s confines. His arm seemed to reach down by a whole metre. _Great minds think alike,_ Hermione joked to herself silently _._

“This should fit you. It isn’t pink with big fancy ruffles but at least it’s the same shape,” Draco grunted as he pulled at the dress in his hand.

Draco tugged one final time and brought out a dress with the same material as the one Hermione had just lost. It still had the thin mesh-like material, except it had been layered underneath, acting as a thick petticoat. It was a lovely shade of deep green, she didn’t mind. Draco threw it to her and Hermione cast a spell in front of him, a light flashing around her body. In an instant, the dress swapped out for the t-shirt, jeans and jacket she’d been wearing for almost 3 days. Draco escorted his wife to dinner, the three adults eating in silence until they heard a voice calling down the hall.

“Master sends his regards to Miss Granger.” The house elf had a ragged voice, the depth of which sent a shiver down Hermione’s spine. _Master? Does he mean Lucius?_

“Thank you Moggy,” Narcissa said, staring uncomfortably at her plate which still had some meat on it.

Hermione chose to steer their conversation toward her father-in-law in the hopes that the house elf might hear them.

“Narcissa, I was wondering… did Lucius bind himself to the portrait in his study? I thought I saw him watch me as I walked down the hallway – just before Moggy bit my ankle.”

Narcissa nodded her head once, grateful for the lack of detail.

“He tells Moggy what he wants to say and apparently he has accepted you into the household. I must say I’m more than…” Narcissa’s voice trailed off as the house elf walked into the room, showing his face to Hermione for the first time.

While Dobby has big eyes, his were almost a quarter the size, his ears were long and droopy and his clothing looked exactly the same. _I forgot how much I miss him._

“The Master wishes to say what Mistress said; ‘The Muggle-born is part'a the family by law and in my eyes’. Thas all,” he said in a gravelly voice that reminded her of Kreacher.

Hermione cleared her throat and offered some of the meat from her plate to Moggy on a fork, which he took and bowed graciously.

“Thank you Miss,” he said, adding "Too kind" in a mutter.

“You’re welcome,” Hermone said, smiling back at him.

Narcissa and Draco stared at the house elf, amazed at what they saw. He was smiling, his mismatched teeth making it seem sinister, but Hermione saw past it. It was in this moment that Draco realised Hermione’s hug earlier wasn’t just pity or her kind nature, it was her way of showing him – as she had now with Moggy – that nobody but Voldemort could always be a monster. Not forever at least. Moggy left both mother and son to sit in stunned silence as Hermione turned back to them, realising what she’d done and what had happened. She grinned and the other two joined in, the smiles wearing away a little as the two women commanded the dishes to clean themselves with a spell.

“You’ve made such a difference already and you’ve only been with us a day. How can I ever thank you dear?” Narcissa sad with a smile.

The young witch grinned and looked over at Draco, who had become solemn again.

“By giving us both time,”  Hermione said under her breath.

As if he had heard her statement from the other side of the room, Draco looked up at them, leaving in a hurry.

“That’s for you two to sort through, not me,”  she whispered kindly.


	5. More Than A Pretty Face Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione seem to get along, but what will change their happy smiles into tears of tragedy?

Draco was in his room reading a book he’d found in Diagon Alley, hoping to better understand his bride’s life before she entered into the Wizarding world. It wouldn’t be fair on Hermione if nothing in this house reminded her of her Muggle life. He had no idea that she had been trying to forget it. There was a small rumble and his desk disappeared, replaced by a small bed from one of the Manor’s many spare rooms. Draco sat up and glared at it, stretching his shirt tight over his bony elbows. He hadn’t been eating like he should but the man with platinum blonde hair didn’t give a damn about himself: barely anybody seemed to, save for his mother and... _wife_. That word was so foreign.

“What the hell is going on?” Draco shouted.

These exaserated cries were heard by the timid brunette on the opposite side of the door, who opened it slowly in case he had been changing.

“I’m sorry. Moggy seemed to think we should share a room; he put the bed in even though I protested," Hermione said frustratedly.

"He barely listens to me so my charms are wearing off on people,” she said with a lack of confidence.

Draco grinned as Hermione’s small smile seemed to drop. Seeing his expression of happiness brought the smile back tenfold and she stepped in, her husband – _I’m in his room_ – pulling it out a little wider, causing her to duck under his arm. Hermione spied a book on Draco’s bed and read the title as he closed the door.

“I had no idea you enjoyed Shakespeare,” Hermione said curiously, feeling a little excited at this strange find.

Seeing Draco’s confusion at her excitement, Hermione gave him a short explanation of the book he’d been reading, Romeo and Juliet, telling him about the man’s influence on modern Muggle language and story-writing. They had been standing up the whole time, Draco listening intently to her words as they flowed like honey from her mouth.

“Now that I think of it, Shakespeare inspired Muggles to do a lot of amazing things, just like some of the survivors of the war dd amazing things,” Hermione said wth a smile curling the edges of her mouth.

Hermione’s attention was suddenly transfixed on the bed, realising that it had white sheets and pillows, the blanket above them black as a Dementor’s cloak. Draco’s sheets and pillows however, were a dark shade of green like the dress she’d worn to dinner. To the witch’s obvious disappointment, she still had it on.

 

Pulling her purse from a pocket in the dresses long green fabric, she reached down inside it, setting it down as she pulled out her pyjamas; a dull, grey pair of shorts and a pale pink t-shirt. Draco went to his cupboard and pulled out the clothing he had been wearing before changing into the suit. Hermione politely tapped him on the shoulder, Draco tensing up a little when he felt her soft, warm hands against his skin through the fabric of his shirt. She also tensed up, feeling his skin crawl under her touch. She found herself wondering if he was repulsed by the idea of being married to a so-called Mudblood, but it didn’t seem possible. Back in **that** room he had been sarcastic and he’d grinned at her not 5 minutes ago. As her mind came back to focus on the task at hand, Hermione looked up at Draco, silently cursing at him for being so tall. When she saw his eyes boring holes into her own, she stared at his nose instead. _Unnecessary eye contact can seem hostile; it would make things worse for us._

“Would you be able to tell me where the bathroom is?” Hermione asked Draco.

He turned Hermione around so that she was facing the same direction as his pointed finger, seeming to think she could see through walls. Draco became even tenser when he leaned down to whisper in her ear, his warm breath gliding across the skin of her neck. _Was it something I did?_ His hand left her shoulder silently.

“Down the hall, second door on your right. If you want you can use the bath and freshen up, but I have to warm you, the taps can be very temperamental,” he said, almost throwng his head away from her as he went and sat on his bed.

The clothing he’d retrieved from the cupboard in his right arm.

“Thankyou Malfoy,” Hermione said with a genune smile.

Draco froze as he opened up the book again; his expression went blank for a few seconds as if he’d heard a Dementor fly down the long hallway outside of his room. He swallowed hard for some inexplicable reason, an oddly calm moving across his face.

“You’re welcome,” he said quickly.

Hermione smiled and left Draco to his own thoughts, something that she hadn’t thought of as being a bad idea. The second the door was closed, Draco could feel tears burning his eyes, the memories of all those students dying, their bodies laid out on the front cover of the Daily Prophet and the ground on which he had been standing when he apparated into Hogwarts. He hadn’t shown any respect for the teachers that may still be recovering; he just wanted to have his own selfish needs met first. _I’ll find a way to make it up to them… someday._ While Draco broke down in tears on his bed and threw his book out of anger, Hermione became aware of a loud bang, but put it down to the shoddy piping in Malfoy Manor. _I guess all people have plumbing problems, even witches and wizards._ Smirking to herself, Hermione ran her bath and tied her hair up, not wanting to wet it and catch a cold. She stripped down and double-checked the lock on the door, making sure nobody would accidentally open it as she was getting in or out of the generously-sized tub. With the taps off and steam rising from the water, Hermione put her right foot in first, testing it. For a moment it seemed scalding hot, but it quickly cooled as her body became accustomed to the heat. She slowly sank down in the bath; having had them tense up so suddenly it could’ve given her whiplash left them near-dead to any sensation but the bathwater’s soothing heat. _I wonder what Draco’s up to..._ After seriously thinking it through, she figured that her new husband was reading. Hermione thanked her lucky stars that Draco was literate and would be able to keep up with her intellect. After scrubbing her entire body raw to remove any scent of the Hogwarts Express and the dress from Draco’s backpack, she got out and quickly dried herself. She had a plan for the next month: stay sane and don’t ignore Moggy, which seemed easy enough. However there was her other friends to consider – the ones she hadn’t seen since the battle had finished and Harry destroyed the Elder Wand forever. Hermione eagerly put on the top and shorts, feeling an odd happiness at being paired off with Draco. At best they would have a half-blood child that would unite their friends together and help save future generation from the blood feuds between Muggle-born and Pure-blood families within the Wizarding world (hopefully with help from their parents). Hermione giggled to herself, realising that having children with Draco meant they would have to consummate the marriage at some point. Her giggle quickly advanced to nervous laughter. With a calm, happy demeanour, Hermione walked to Draco’s room and opened the door. The happiness drained form her face when she saw his stained with tears, the high-pitched sobs returning. _I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone!_

 

 

Warning: the next chapter will be SUPER long! I take inspiration from both the movies and the books, so read up if you haven't yet.


	6. More Than A Pretty Face Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco was crying and he feels something for the girl he had once called Mudblood, but he wants to change. Despite her best efforts, Draco cannot feel what he used to feel, do what he used to do... all because of his past as a follower of the Dark Lord.

Draco hadn’t noticed Hermione walk in, but when he saw her staring at him he only continued to sob. His mind and body had taken enough of a beating and God knows it couldn’t get any worse than it already was.

“Malfoy, why are you crying?" Hermione asked,utterlybewildered.

"If it was something I did I’m sorry.”

Draco didn’t acknowledge her existence; instead he opted for silence, the tears on his face drying slowly. When he finally broke the dead silence between them, Hermione moved closer and he edged away. His voice had become so sad, so monotone and unbelievably painful that she could have cried herself.

“It was never this bad, the crying. When I was younger it wasn’t even on my mind; but now it’s all I’ve got besides casting spells at a brick wall,” he joked.

Draco saw Hermione at the end of his bed, her expression telling him all he needed to know. His anger, his hate, all the bottled up fury he had was suddenly released in one sentence.

“I did terrible things to you, to them, all because my family hates Mud – hates Muggle-born wizards and witches and now I have to live with that guilt; the Ministry locked us up and released us when my father died out of pity and I don’t want that from anyone, especially you Hermione,” he said solemnly.

The witch’s mouth was hidden by her hand, only daring to move it away when she knew Draco was listening. _He needs to hear me, he needs to know that I’m here for him and that I really do care._

“How long has the crying been this bad for?” she asked delicately.

Draco sat up and stared at her, his eyes moving from his knees that were hidden by the blankets on his bed to a random mark on the bedroom wall.

“The day Potter found out that I hexed Katie Bell. I was crying when he decided to attack me and make his accusations, but the pain takes the cake for making me cry the most,” he admitted coldly.

Draco swallowed hard and Hermione touched his foot, the action making him nearly jump out of his skin.

“You don’t have to worry about anybody hating you. I used to think of you as a prat but to see you like this, so concerned for me… it’s gone,” Hermione said as she edged even closer to Draco, her hip grazing his feet as she put a hand to his left knee.

The look on his face was fearful and she let go abruptly. Had he really become so distant that he hadn’t been willing to let people touch him? If that was so, that would mean he hadn’t even been… he looked as though he was going to sob again and she calmly stared him down, her voice soft but a little demanding for her taste.

“Calm down Draco. I’ll be here for you when you feel like talking about this. I know there’s more you’re not telling me so I promise not to pressure you about it unless it becomes completely necessary. Goodnight,”she said quetly.

Draco smiled in the minutest way, aslight tug at the corners of his lips, confusing Hermione to no end.

“What’s put you in a good mood?” Hermioneasked Draco curiously.

Draco left traces of the smile on his face and took on an air of pride… or was it his version of shyness?

“You used my name,” he saidwith a light blush that contrasted heavily wth his pale cheeks.

Hermione tried to give him a hug but he just pushed her away.

“You’re not going to break me you know. I am a pretty tough witch,” she jibed.

Draco became silent again and Hermione decided to leave him be, the disappointment in her face hitting home. His hands slid around her wrists and pulled her back toward him, his hands stopping at her elbows.

“One week,” he said awkwardly and rather faintly.

Hermione was a little scared by the expression on his face, an almost unbridled anger hiding behind his silvery eyes, white fringe threatening to hide his expression from her.

“’One week’ what?” Draco swallowed again, his throat dry as a desert. _If I say it the wrong way she might think I mean something by this… but I don’t. I just want to know if she trusts me or not._

“I’m giving you a week to sleep in the same room as me. At the end of the week you can choose whether we share a bed or the same house. What happens after that is up to you,” he suggested.

 _But if it were up to me I’d ask her to move out now and save myself the pain of letting her feel my bones dig into her back when we go to sleep and I sure as hell don’t plan on sleeping with her any time soon._ _What am I doing? We have five years to get used to each other and I’m practically forcing her to leave or get closer to me in a week! She’s not going to agree and she’ll just leave the moment she gets the chance..._

“Agreed,” Hermione said.

She gave him a smile and Draco almost forgot that his hands were still fastened around her elbows, finally letting go.

“Can I say goodnight to you properly now?” Hermione asked as she lether features soften into a small smile.

Draco gave her a questioning stare, but not enough to intimidate her into forgetting about saying goodnight in an appropriate manner for a married couple. He nodded slowly, his arms shaking lightly as Hermione closed her arms around his shoulders. One hand made its way to the back of his head, the gentle pressure pushing it weakly toward the crook of her neck. Following the hand he let his head come to rest on her shoulder, the shakes nearly unnoticeable. He needed someone to be there for him and she would be that someone. She was his wife after all.

“Goodnight Draco,” Hermione whispered, feeling his lips curl into what thought could only be a full smile on her shoulder.

“Goodnight Hermione.” Hermione let his arms go and sneakily kissed him on the cheek.

As much as he had wanted her to kiss him again, his body told him she should be far away from him. It was like he had developed an addiction to her lips. Though the feeling of her lips leaving him was agonizing, he began to feel sick while they were there; this week either going to end well or end terribly no matter what she chose to do. Hermione didn’t notice Draco’s skin paling as the sickness in his heart and in his body grew. Guilt was at its core and his only cure would be her leaving… he could practically feel it. It was growing worse by the day and he was sick of being sick.


	7. Prison of the Mind Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is still hiding secrets from Hermione and his mother, but the mental pain has been so constant - even before the war - that his anger rather than his sadness has finally come out and it is beginning to scare Hermione as she is dragged underground...

That morning had seemed like any other to Draco: sadness and anger flowing freely through his veins with something else… an unfamiliar sense of fear. Where had it come from? Why did he feel that way so much all of a sudden? Maybe his nose remembered what would happen if he got on her bad side… God knows the Muggle-born had a hefty right hook! Draco sat up and ran a hand through his hair, squeaking – in a rather emasculated tone – when something touched his arm. _Her_.

“Are you trying to kill me in my sleep now?” Draco’s comment sent the young lady before him into a fit of giggles, ending the bout with a sweet smile.

“Can’t I say good morning to you?” Hermione tried to kiss him but Draco moved forward and she planted a kiss to the wall instead of his cheek. She immediately pulled back and raised an eyebrow at his actions, definitely not impressed.

 

He barely had the guts to get the one sentence to flow form his mouth without sounding as though he was in pain or hated her guts.

“Don’t do anything like that until you have your mind made up.” Draco slipped his legs over the side of the bed and picked out another long-sleeved formal shirt along with a belt, black pants, black knitted vest, grey socks and black lace-up shoes. Hermione wanted to scoff at him as she had often thought of doing when they were younger. _He never wears sneakers: it’s always been boots and that God-awful pair of black lace up shoes. I’m surprised his lack of decent footwear hasn’t driven him mad already._ Mentally venting her frustrations, Hermione kept a calm exterior and picked up the pyjama bottoms that she’d forgotten to get when she’d undressed earlier. She had no choice but to do it in here: all the other rooms had tiles or wood and would be a menace to undress in, especially with such a high chance of falling over if she had rushed herself.

 

After a moment she realised that Draco had been watching her pick up the pyjamas and place it back into the purse, swiftly leaving the room. Immediately after walking into the kitchen she saw Narcissa staring blankly at a steaming bowl of porridge, a silver spoon sticking out of it like a flagpole; her expression became that of delighted shock when she saw her daughter-in-law standing there in black leggings, a loose-fitting orange shirt and her hair brushed out in loose waves. The proud lady before her looked pretty; and if she had noticed it may not take long before Draco did himself.

“How is he?” Hermione smiled and took a seat, a bowl and spoon set out before her, begging to be eaten. She dipped the spoon into the bowl and held it still, giving Narcissa her reply before she lifted it up, and the mushy mixture sat on her spoon in a uniform lump.

“I think he just needed to vent his frustration; he cried for a little while and let me kiss him on the cheek so I’d say he’s on his way to re –”

 

Narcissa injected the information she needed Hermione to hear; whether she would like it or not was another question.

“Don’t get your hopes up: it’s happened with every girl who has come through the Manor since Voldemort asked him to kill Dumbledore. The last girl was rather sweet: Daphne Greengrass’ younger sister Astoria. I don’t know what he does but… he starts out sad and cries over ‘everything’ he’s done, hides away, and comes out of his shells for a few hours or a whole week. That’s when he takes the girls down into our cellar and they come out as white as his hair. Then the cycle starts again.” Hermione smiled at the joke, but Narcissa hadn’t really been aiming to make a jab at her son… she just couldn’t say the words ‘white as paper’. If Draco did the same thing to Hermione she may never speak to him again.

 

_He’s at the stage where it’s going to start again… while his new wife is in the same house! Dearest Merlin I beg you to keep her safe._

“Is there anything you’ve heard him say? Maybe it was a sound that could help us figure out what he’s shown them?” Narcissa nodded as Hermione finally ate some of her porridge, hating to admit that it tasted better than her own recipe. Then again, House Elves were meant to be good at all forms of house chores, especially cooking. _Speaking of which…_

“Did Moggy bring us our food?” Narcissa smiled at her polite tone. Even Muggles knew how to be respectful and despite everything she and Lucius had been raised to believe, she had grown to like her new family member. However, she would never say that in front of her own or Lucius’ family.

 

“Of course: he’s loyal to Lucius and he is technically still able to give orders, so his deal can only be broken if we give him clothing. When Harry did that to Dobby we managed to weasel Moggy from a distant relative of mine. Enough about me, I should tell you what I heard.” Hermione reluctantly put down her spoon and listened closely.

“The first time, he said ‘it’s because of him’ to the other Slytherin girl Pansy… but when Astoria came around a few weeks before you were brought to the Manor he said ‘it’s because of her’. I may have misheard but whoever this ‘her’ is, she’s definitely upset him somehow.” Narcissa glanced at her bowl, finally taking up some of the porridge herself as feet descended the large staircase. She leaned forward and Hermione closed in too, brunette hair nearly falling into the bowl in front of her.

“I suspect he was talking about you.”

 

Draco entered the room and Hermione’s face grew pale… those girls had seen something down in the cellar, but what was it that had scared them so much and what did she have to do with it? In any case, Draco has some explaining to do and she had an entire week to wait. The man himself walked in through the door, walking in casually with an expression similar to his mother’s; however, he seemed to be very disturbed.

“Mother…” His gaze darted to Hermione and he moistened his upper lip with tongue, Hermione noticing the gesture as a sign of stress.

“Hermione.” Hermione patted the seat next to her but his pause was so agonizingly long she could have sworn her stomach sounded like a rocket ship blasting off into space. He calmly sat down one chair away and she pushed her bowl over to him.

 

“We can share if you like? I don’t mind.” _The bowl is big enough and I doubt he’s going to eat much of it anyway._ Draco stared at the mush in the bowl as Hermione passed him a spoon, using her own to scoop some up and put it in her mouth. He watched her for a moment and she expected a witty comment like “Can you eat it for me?” or “I didn’t know girls ate food?” but he said nothing. Much to Hermione and Narcissa’s relief, he managed to take out a quarter of the porridge while Hermione had a half, leaving some behind. Putting the last of it in a container, Hermione left the kitchen with Draco in tow, Narcissa finally eating her own meal as she looked up at the clock standing in the main foyer beside the stairs. _I suppose half past nine is better than eleven._ In the hall Hermione set down the tiny bowl and Moggy appeared from the doorway.

“Too kind, Miss.”

 

Moggy bowed his head once and hobbled over to the bowl, picking it up and leaving Hermione to stand by Draco who had nothing to say. Just before the House Elf rounded the corner, Hermione said something that left Draco to wonder how the Weasel could let her go.

“Give my regards to Lucius; to your master.” Moggy turned back and his lips curled at their corners to form an eerie but not overly frightening smile. He practically hopped into the room and the air was silent. Seeing that he would be busy, Hermione decided to walk Draco back to his room. He had second guessed her and walked ahead, jogging up the stairs so that he could close the door without slamming it: the door had almost hit her nose. She knocked on it lightly and he opened it enough for her to see one eye staring out. She was lucky enough to find Draco completely oblivious to the fact that she was edging her flat-soled black shoes into the crack he left.

 

Hermione lowered her voice and kept it to an airy tone, as if she were curious and not asking about what Pansy and Astoria saw.

“What’s down in the cellar?” Draco’s eyes darted to the floor and back up to hers, holding her gaze for a moment. He practically wrenched the door open and grabbed her wrist hard, dragging her down the stairs, past Lucius’ old study and finally stopped when they were at the end of the hall, standing before a black gate. Instead of smelling like a cellar, it smelled like a crypt. The anger in his eyes was getting to her and the smell was familiar somehow, reminiscent of something… but that something eluded her. Draco grabbed her other wrist and pushed them above her head, his warm breath tickling her cool skin as he spoke, too close for comfort. His voice had become menacing, the old version of himself dominating his face with the hideous expressions she remembered so well.

 

“You want to see what’s in there? Fine! But don’t expect to come out the same as you went in.” As Draco opened the gate and led Hermione down the stairs, she felt more and more terrified. _He only ever teased me… he never really **hurt** me and suddenly he’s making a threat? Of all places to go when he puts it to me it’s in a cellar under his house where nobody can hear me scream._

Apologies for the long chapter but we needed to see what Draco’s mind and body are going through, so I’m torturing myself **and** my characters for your benefit… no hints will be given as to what is going on with the cellar but it will be interesting I can tell you now.


	8. Prison of the Mind Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has dragged Hermione to the bottom of a staircase that leads to his family's cellar, showing her one of his most private past times since he had first met her.   
> What is his secret and why can't he handle being around the Gryffindor anymore?

Draco’s cold hands were like manacles around Hermione’s hand, holding her behind him as she was dragged down a set of dark, wooden stairs like a convict. _He’s going to show me what all the other girls saw – I wonder if I’ll be any different from them when I come out… he seems to think so._ When the familiar smell finally became too much to bear, Hermione realised what it smelt like; the stench of smouldering hot, broken stone. Just like Hogwarts during and a while after the war. _But why would it smell like that in their cellar of all places in the Manor? Is it just because their boiler is down here and the Manor’s skeleton is made of wood and concrete? Oh, that might be it after all… why do I always jump to some crazy conclusion when it’s something normal? I suppose that happens when your friends with Harry and Ron._ Draco opened a second gate, revealing a large room with an empty wall in front of them and to their left, the one on the right covered in old bottles of wine.

 

Draco pulled Hermione closer and held her upper arms, whispering in her ear.

“Take out your wand and cast the charm Finite Incantatem on the wall in front of you. You should be alone when you see it.” His voice had lost the pure hatred, but anger was lingering about, as if he were angry at himself. Hermione fell over as Draco almost forced her away, her wand finally coming out of her loose sleeve. She raised her wand and pointed the tip toward the wall, closing her eyes in anticipation. Whatever was there, it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Finite Incantatem.” There was a cracking sound as a charm in the wall broke open, revealing Draco’s secret. Hermione opened her eyes and for a moment had no reaction, trying to understand what she could see. The entire wall was riddled with black burns, had holes of varying sizes and had even water erosion.

 

Hermione heard the door open and she was still standing in awe, wondering who had been tortured in this room.

“ **That** is all because of you.” Hermione’s mouth dropped and she turned around as Draco moved toward her, the anger returning, but not nearly as bad as it had been earlier.

“Every time your score was better than mine, every time you insulted me me, every time I thought about you…” Draco pulled out his own wand and cast a spell.

“Incendio!” The flame was in no way at aimed at Hermione, but the anger in his voice was enough to make her scream inside her own mind.

“Why? What did I do? All I ever did was the right thing!” Draco was taken aback by the way Hermione had raised her voice the way a cat raised its hackles when it felt threatened.

 

“You were…” His words were caught in his throat as his eyes watered.

“I was WHAT Draco?” Draco breathed hard and Hermione realised that he was having a panic attack, the wild look in his eyes as he realised what he’d done.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have shown you or told you about this.” Hermione stalked over to him, her anger radiating from her body so strongly he feared what she might do or say.

“Then why could you show all those other girls? First it was Voldemort and suddenly it became me… or was it always me that you hated?” Draco steeped back as Hermione got closer, the three metre gap between them becoming two, and then one. He almost ran into the wall behind him to get away. His back hit it and sent a jolt through his body that felt like an electric shock, painful and a heavy pressure spread through his muscles.

 

He was on his way to a panic attack and Hermione could see it, so she calmed herself down a bit before speaking again.

“Just answer me Draco, that’s all I want.” Draco shook his head and his chest heaved as if he were about to throw up, but instead she could hear his shallow breathing, so weak and frantic that she was just about ready to cuddle the man and cry with him.

“Are you avoiding me because you think you’re going to hurt me?” Draco couldn’t answer, his body finally slumping onto the ground as it gave in to his nerves, minor convulsions running through him. Hermione grabbed his shoulders and sat him up and Draco started to breathe a little easier than he had been before. Hermione sat her wand down, certain that nothing was physically blocking his airways. Draco handed Hermione his wand and told her to keep it with her.

 

She tried to put a hand in his shoulder but he just edged up along the wall and kept repeating one word.

“No.” After a few minutes he was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. He passed out and Hermione used a spell to lift him from the floor and take him back up to his room where she left him, his wand sitting on the pillow of her bed. Before she left the room, she crouched down by his bed and whispered a promise to him, knowing that he wouldn’t hear it.

“I promise to look after you, even if I have to sit with you for the next 5 years without ever knowing if all those rumours spread about you just before the Yule Ball were true or not.” Though she was tempted to kiss his cheek, Hermione felt as though it would be a stolen kiss and instead blew him one from the doorway.

 

Remembering what else she had planned to do, she withdrew her personal copy of Romeo and Juliet form her purse, sitting it on a shelf in his wardrobe. Hermione left the room and went downstairs, sitting in a chair and reading through a copy of the family tree that Narcissa had left on the kitchen table.

 

 

Not quite at the romance yet, but I promise that it will be VERY soon, I swear!


	9. The Truth Reveals Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has found a secret in the Malfoy family tree and has finally gotten him to tell her more about the past, so what will happen when she finally helps break the dreaded cycle of happiness becoming fear and fear becoming sadness?

Hermione had been searching through Draco’s family all afternoon and found something she couldn’t explain: Draco and Harry shared a singular relative who was now deceased after Molly Weasley blasted her into millions of tiny pieces for attack Ginny. _Bellatrix was a Black… that means that Harry and Draco are related! It may very distant but still, it’s something they can never know._ Hermione was deep in thought when Narcissa sat a hand on her shoulder, making her jolt in surprise. Narcissa smiled and sat opposite her, letting loose the secret she’d kept form her husband.

“I’ve known about the relations between Bellatrix, Harry and Draco since they boys met in their first year. I told Lucius just after he died before Moggy bit me the first time: needless to say both of them were angry.” Narcissa pulled up her sleeve, revealing a set of deep scars arranged in a semicircular shape around her forearm.

 

Hermione’s eyes bugged out of her head as she thought of the odd creature latching onto Narcissa’s arm simply because they were related to the Boy-Who-Lived. It was absurd.

“Do you think he’ll be up soon? I left him there and I haven’t check the time since I got back.” Narcissa leaned over to her left, staring at the clock.

“Well it’s 11 so I’d say so. The last time he fainted before brining you here he was in the bathroom getting changed for a fly on the old Nimbus from his first year. He kept it in such a good condition that it was almost impossible not to let him use it. I went in and he had been putting a windcheater on when he fell over. He didn’t hurt himself but for a while afterward he wouldn’t talk, eat or even sleep. I wonder if he slept last night because you were there.” Hermione quickly tried to humble herself, making it sound as though she had nothing to do with it.

 

“He did speak to me, so I suppose now that I know what’s going on with him the weights been taken off his shoulders. Then again I think he’s been generalising everything too much for his own good… the specifics of the situation are probably what bothers him the most.” Narcissa looked at Hermione and she tilted her head a little.

“Did you find out about what he’s been hiding in the cellar?” Hermione’s mind flashed with images of Draco’s anger, the way he had been hyperventilating as a panic attack consumed his mind and body until he passed out.

“I don’t want to talk about it, but you can feel free to use Legilimency to see it for yourself.”

“That’s a bit too invasive dear, what about your privacy and his?”

“He lost the privilege to that when he took me down there and I want you to see what he’s been hiding. It’s not as bad as you might think.”

 

Narcissa took in a deep breath and released it through her nose, calming herself before she gave the command to peer into Hermione’s thoughts.

“Legilimens.” Hermione felt a dull ache in her temples but let Narcissa in, the woman’s expression changing as she got further into the vision playing before her like a movie on a screen in her own mind. She stood up from the table and smiled, tears forming behind her eyes.

“I’m going to speak to Lucius and see if he knows anything about the cellar. You need to be upstairs with Draco to keep him company.” Hermione nodded, stood herself and hugged Narcissa who gladly hugged her back. In perfect unison, they wished one another luck with their respective partner and walked away; Narcissa to the left of the stairs down the hall and Hermione up them to Draco’s room. She opened the door slowly and peeked inside, noticing that the bed was empty.

 

Opening the door fully, she realised that Draco’s bed was empty and the covers had been moved back. He had decided to sit on her bed, the novel in his hands open to the first page where she’d written her name as a teenager. It was so sad to see him staring at it blankly and then look up at her as though she was about to murder him. What was he so scared of?

“You can read it if you like. That’s why I put it out.” Draco stood and walked back to his bed, sitting on the edge. Hermione slowly closed the door, making sure to turn the handle carefully so that she wouldn’t make Draco feel uncomfortable.

“Can I sit with you?” His answer was so blunt but it was cutting her apart.

“No.”

“Why not?”

 

“I… I used to know what it was like to be or want to be with someone, but the one person I wanted most was impossible to get to because my family would never accept her. I grew to hate her for so long that I even thought of changing my allegiance… she was one of the reasons that I didn’t kill Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy Tower on top of it all. When I found out she was going to be in a house with me everything came tumbling down around me: do I hate or do I love her? Would she ever consider being with me knowing full well that I’d always been on the wrong side of the war? The stress of it all was so bad that I drove every other girl away and I even tried to do it to her.” Hermione put a hand to her mouth when she realised who Draco was talking about.

“Me?! You like me?” Draco nodded and closed his eyes tight as a panic attack made itself known, his hands shaking as they sat on his knees.

 

Hermione knew what needed to be done, so she slowly walked over to him and took his hands in her own, a thumb stroking the back of his left hand.

“Listen to me: I hated you then but I don’t anymore. Just breathe and keep your hands where they are, don’t pull back.” Despite her calm words, Draco wasn’t getting any better and his only reaction was to pull back.

“Draco, stop. Look me in the eyes and say what you need to say.” Draco’s light sobs became almost silent as he looked up at her, seeing her kind eyes. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a tight hug and Hermione laughed into his ear.

“Now you’re strangling me.” Draco smiled and let her go so that she could sit next to him and he gently pulled her back to him.

 

“It’s nice to see you smile.” Hermione could feel his trembling hands on her back and leaned up to his lips, expecting him to force her away and begin the whole process again. Without hesitation Draco closed the gap and they kissed. Hermione put a hand on the back of his neck and finally he pulled away, the feelings finally getting to him again. He didn’t cry, sob or get angry but he didn’t seem to want to continue despite the evidence he’d given her – the evidence being the kiss and a slight bulge in his pants that made her giggle. He said nothing and closed his legs together in shame but Hermione smiled. He kept his head down and was inwardly refusing himself the right to make eye contact with her.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to be shy about that.” She put her hand on Draco’s shoulder and smiled, blushing furiously at the fact that she knew he was turned on.

 

“Haven’t had that happen in a while. Would you mind reading me some of that novel?” Hermione reluctantly left him and picked her book form her bed where he’d left it, sitting down on the edge and reading out the page he’d marked, beginning with one of the books most famous lines.

“Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou Romeo?” Draco listened the entire time, the pair only leaving the room when they noticed that it had gotten dark outside. That night after a quiet but peaceful dinner, Draco kissed Hermione on the cheek and said goodnight to her with a smile. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her what would happen when she fell asleep.

 

Precursor you say? I think so! XD


	10. I Did It For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has an episode and reveals the whole truth to Hermione about his strange actions, especially his avoidance of her despite giving her his 'reason' earlier on that night.

Draco sat up the entire night, wondering how long it would be before the sadness set in again: the fear was almost gone, but his self-loathing was beginning to do his head in. If she decided to share his bed he would probably reject her at first and if she wanted him badly she might decide to stay in the other bed until he came over and begged her to be with him, even if they were just side by side. But if she chose to stay where she was, Merlin knows he wouldn’t be able to control his animalistic lust if it got a hold of him the way he had been thinking of holding himself. She wouldn’t know of he had been touching himself and why would she care? It was harmless fun, his own dirty little secret that he’d never considered until now; even when he was a teenager the thought of pleasuring himself was ridiculously disturbing, but now it was the closest thing he had to being with someone.

 

Draco absentmindedly let a hand rest on his knee, leaning forward and putting a fist under his chin to support his head, looking in Hermione’s direction. _She’d hate me for it, whether she knew about it or not… what am I thinking?! Have I really become that disgusting, that perverted?_ Draco felt it, the flood of sadness, the feeling of guilt and the sudden idea that he had violated her privacy. He decided that it was best to stand up and leave so that Hermione didn’t hear what he was doing. He fumbled around in his bedside drawer for his wand, picked it up and lit his own way out of the room, oblivious to the person following him. He heard a scuffing sound and turned, but saw nothing behind him, so he purposely kicked the air behind him and heard a squeak as his foot collided with an invisible shin.

 

“Hermione? What are you doing and why are you invisible?” Hermione dropped the invisibility cloak and revealed her in the mismatched pyjamas, her wand in her hand.

“Where are you going in the middle of the night with your wand?” His answer was so emotionless, but an undertone of something she couldn’t quite pick up on was there, something **bad**.

“I’m casting the Imperius curse on myself.” Hermione’s face fell into disarray.

“Why?! You were making progress!” Draco shook his head, lips pressing into one another as anger shone proudly on his face.

“It’s not natural! I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life and suddenly I’m…” Draco fell to his knees and managed to raise his head as the source of his pain ebbed away slowly.

 

He was on the verge of tears, his face twisted sickeningly in pain. It was breaking her heart.

“I put the curse on myself after the Yule Ball and now it’s fading away because of you: it wants me to do what i asked it to and now it won't let me get close to anybody.” Hermione had finally pieced it together: he’d slept with somebody at the Yule Ball, thought of her and felt guilty for it, so he forced himself to be rid of her. He loved her, there was no doubt about it, but the curse was making him sick. There was only one solution: he had to do what the curse didn’t want him to: sleep with her. _What have I gotten myself into?_ Hermione watched Draco put the wand to his head and before he had even thought of what he wanted the curse to do, Hermione had aimed her wand at him and did what needed to be done.

“Immobulus!”

 

In a split second decision to keep him safe from himself, Hermione had caused Draco to become completely still so that she could give him the elixir she had created before leaving Hogwarts as a safe-scape: a drug that worked similarly to that of the ones her parents used in their dental work. Draco couldn’t move, feeling the liquid move down his throat as Hermione pressed the vile to his lips, silently wishing that she’d leave him be. Using Mobilicorpus, Hermione had taken Draco back to his room with a note – whether he read it or not was a different story altogether.

 

The REAL secret is out, so get ready for the loving my pretties! Apologies of you all think it is becoming too similar to my other Dramione fic, but it has some other big differences, such as the full-on stuff that will be happening within the next 2 chapters or so: this is just a hint at what'll happen later.


	11. Harry Breaks the Ferret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione invites some friends over with rather disturbing consequences...

Draco was sitting up in his bed, staring at a piece of paper that had been left for him on the bedside table. He had no idea why it was there, but it was almost calling out to him, telling him it was important. Giving in to his gut feeling, Draco whipped open the letter and began to read.

 

_Dear Draco,_

_We have visitors who have a hard time waiting, so get dressed in something decent._

_Love Hermione._

_PS I think you ought to know this as my husband: I’m still a virgin._

 

The traces of colour in Draco’s face disappeared and his hands shook. _You’re kidding? She’s still… and she wants to be with me of all people?_ Draco jumped up from his bed and copied Hermione’s clothing spell, swapping out his vest for a simple white top and grey pants with the black shoes he’d always worn.

 

Nobody could deny that he enjoyed formality and – given the situation – it was necessary. The door opened and someone ran in, wrapping their arms around him. Draco nearly died when a girl with ginger hair and freckled skin smiled at him.

“Hello Draco. Looking after Hermione?” Ginny dropped her gaze to the note and Draco scrunched it up so aggressively that Ginny was prepared to call for Harry if she felt that she was in actual danger. Hermione hadn’t told her the details, but from what she had said, Draco was in a dark place and needed to get out of it as soon as possible. _Hopefully I didn’t scare him too badly._

“What are you doing here?” Ginny’s smile remained as she gave him a quick run-down on what she had been planning since the Ministry gave out their best wishes to single witches and wizards.

“I’m hosting a ball at Hogwarts similar to the Yule Ball for couples who were put into their marriages unwillingly; seeing old friends and keeping in contact might help them enjoy their married life."

 

 

“Harry was pretty excited to see you, Merlin knows why. It’s probably because you married his ‘sister’ and he wants to start over.” Draco’s grin had finally become a smile which gave Ginny hope. _If Malfoy can smile surely the others can…_ Ginny escorted Draco downstairs, the sight of his thin legs under his clothing making her want to cry. Before they got to the last step, Draco put an arm out in front of Ginny and spoke to her in a sad voice that would make even a Dementor cry.

“I always thought they were funny, Fred and George. I don’t think you’d want to hear me say it… but I went to the funeral on Saturday. Even I know who the heroes were in that war and your brother was one of them.” Ginny smiled and a tear fell down her cheek, possibly ruining her make up.

“Draco you’re going to make me cry.” Draco flashed an awkward smile.

“Sorry, I just thought someone ought to know that I was there.” Ginny took his lightly shaking hand and smiled back, using her wand to remove the make up with a spell of her own design.

 

“Come on, Harry’s probably eager to hear about what you’ve been doing with yourself for the past couple of weeks.” Draco nodded and put on a blank but subtly happy expression, the small smile a sign of his discomfort. The moment he saw Hermione with her head bowed to the table he was seeing red. It didn’t show through as much as it could have, his voice sounding sarcastic at the most. Ginny had already let go of his hand, feeling it tense up when Harry stepped away from Hermione.

“What did I do now?” Hermione looked up and his smile was falling into a frown, certain that he was going to snap at any moment. Harry laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“You didn’t **do** anything Draco. Hermione was just telling me that Hogwarts could use a good rebuilding so I was wondering if you could help us create a Reunion Ball? Surely you remember what the Yule Ball was like?” Draco nodded and Ginny sat next to Harry on a chair while he stood to shake Draco’s hand.

 

“As Hermione’s brother I have to warn you of something: one wrong move and I will personally make your life a living hell.” Hermione had seen it coming, Ginny knew it was coming and Harry had second guessed Draco form the moment he walked into the room. The punch was fierce – with the blonde’s full weight behind it – but Harry was fast enough to dodge it and avoid a nasty bruise. To their horror, Draco fell and his body came crashing down on the wooden floor with a deafening crack. Ginny saw Hermione and Harry die a little in the inside when he began choking on his own blood. Hermione immediately crouched down by his side and cast a spell.

“Anapneo.” Draco convulsed and blood flooded from his mouth, the sight and smell so powerful that Harry forced Ginny and Hermione to leave while he fixed up the man on the ground. Narcissa was down the hall when she heard the crack, but Lucius told her to stay to avoid injuring herself. The inhumane coughing and spluttering that followed confirmed only one thing: it wasn’t her that would be injured, but her mind.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry welcomed Ginny and Hermione back into the kitchen from the sitting room, Draco curled up in a childish defense against the pain. Harry grabbed onto Hermione’s arm tightly and almost wrenched her to the floor beside himself and Draco, whispering angrily into her ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d been under the Imperius Curse earlier? We could’ve done something to stop it happening this way.” Hermione’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

“What does the Imperius Curse have to do with his broken ribs?” Draco suddenly sat up, his head spinning so much that Harry had to put an arm behind his back.

“Blood hell, I must’ve hit my head hard, I could swear Harry Potter has his arms around me.” Draco looked drunk with his closed eyelids, but the pair knew he couldn’t stand the idea of people staring at him while he was incapacitated.

 

Hermione glanced at the floor and Draco’s ribs, realising that nothing had been broken and the blood had disappeared.

“What happened to him?” Harry knew there was no other way to say it, but she wanted an answer and he was about to give her one.

“The Curse literally broke him and punctured his lungs but I learnt a spell that could heal him without bringing the Curse back; he’s pretty much cured.” Draco opened his eyes and smiled, his strength returning. Hermione gasped when she realised that he was his lean, healthy self again, not the skeleton that she’d been looking at for the past couple of days. Draco almost leapt onto her and hugged her tight: Harry wanted to wring his neck but Ginny hit him over the head and leaned down to his ear.

“Save it for another time Harry. Let them enjoy it.”

 

Harry watched Hermione slip her arms around the man and hold him for what seemed like an eternity. When they broke apart they remembered that they had guests and stood up together, addressing Harry and Ginny properly.

“Sorry for scaring you both so much: I have a lot to explain and so little time to do it in.” Ginny smiled and took Draco’s hand again, much to his surprise.

“Well the ball is on Friday so don’t be late. Hermione, keep an eye on him.”

“If you do the same with my brother I will.” The two women smiled as Harry and Ginny apparated back to the Weasley’s new home: it may not have been as spacious as the Burrow but it did have the same homely feel to it. Draco walked Hermione up the stairs, stopping when something strange happened. He felt a strong pulse run through his veins and his body, as if his heart was on a loudspeaker.

 

Hermione felt it through his hands and helped him to the top of the stairs as he breathed hard, leaning on the wall beside his bedroom door for support.

“Is it your lungs?” Draco shook his head, the strange sensation stopping when Moggy appeared before them, dropped his wand on the floor and left. Hermione handed it to Draco and he stared at it for a couple of minutes until they got into the bedroom.

“What the hell was that?” Hermione shook her head.

“I have no idea… for once.” Draco snuck an arm around her back and pulled her lips close to his.

“May I?” Hermione took the initiative and kissed him hard, sending a buzz of adrenaline through them. When they broke apart they could still feel the places their tongues had traced over one another. They were panting lightly and shocked themselves when they realised how animalistic it had been, fighting each other for dominance.

 

Hermione noticed that their wands were both glowing at the tips so Draco picked them up and analysed them. After a moment he shoved them into a drawer.

“I can’t stand to look at anything right now: I have such a bad headache and my chest is…” Draco looked down at his taut muscles, overly glad that he was no longer skin and bone anymore, showing it with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s new.” He laughed at his own surprise; Hermione joined in when she noticed the six-pack he was staring at rather happily. They stopped when she looked at a watch in her purse.

“Better get some sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Seven… you woke up at half-past six.” Draco nodded.

“I fall asleep far too often. Are you still making your decision on Sunday?”

 

Hermione put her tongue in her cheek as she thought carefully.

“Well you haven’t had much experience, I know that you’ve read the note and I don’t think we should just jump into it. You’re fine with that, aren’t you?” Draco used Hermione’s spell and was in his tank top and shorts in a flash, the sight of his muscles enough to make her feel faint. She hated to admit it, but when he was turned around she couldn’t help but stare at his ass. Thankfully she hadn’t figured out that he did the same thing. They slept through the night, dreams full of nothing but each other and the couples they might see at the Reunion Ball. Things were going right for now, but who knows what might happen when they were together in front of everybody? Only time would tell.

 

 

ENJOY!!


	12. Still Hiding Behind a Door Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can see that Draco is struggling with his emotions and the power that the Imperius curse had once held over him, but now someone else is haunting him. Draco seems distraught when he spies Katie Bell's name on the list of attendee's and a single kiss leads him back up to his room. When he claims that his frustration is related to the possible turn their 'marriage' could take, Hermione knows that he is still hiding behind a door for another reason. What that reason is she may not find out.
> 
>  
> 
> Hate to do this but I had to post this chapter to keep you hooked in so that i can catch up with school work and my other fics (have one hell of a cold at the moment so everything is moving slowly). Feel free to take a look at my other Works while you're at it as they may be more interesting than this one XD

Through all of Wednesday and Thursday, Hermione had been receiving letters from Ginny who had finally settled upon a dress code with Hermione’s help; Draco had distracted himself from the stress of it all by burying his mind in the novel. Though the Imperius curse had no control over Draco, his inexperience and the fact that Hermione could possibly give herself to him was hard to come to terms with. Hermione excitedly passed him the letter which she sat in the way of his reading. She plopped down next to him on the small lounge and looked over his shoulder.

“She wants us to wear our house colours? Won’t that get confusing?” Hermione smiled and pointed to the words in brackets underneath what Draco had read.

“Or you can wear a combination of the two: a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw would wear purple.” Realising that the pair would quickly be confused for two Hufflepuff’s, Hermione sighed and defended Ginny, knowing full well that Draco was right.

 

“Okay, so she didn’t think it through completely, but I’m sure we have enough common sense to know which students were actually in each house.” Draco smiled and thought of putting his arm around her shoulder, but left it at a peck on the cheek. Hermione wanted it to be more than a peck on the cheek, but his personal fears and worries had gotten in the way of it. He was probably getting over his shock at one of the names on the ‘attendees’ list; Katie Bell. He had stared at it blankly for a whole 5 seconds before moving his eyes downward through the names, nobody listed with their partners but instead put into alphabetical order by their first name. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“I’m sure she’s forgiven you by now.” Draco looked directly into her eyes and seared her lips with the kiss she had been waiting for all day. His hand slid around one side of her neck and the contact sent an odd sensation of heat through her body.

 

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but the fire that they’d set alight in one another was still burning, the physical evidence mind-numbingly aware on Draco’s part. The sight if a small bulge in his pants made her blush, lips pressed tightly together in a shy smile. Draco looked down and left swiftly without a word. As he closed the door, Hermione ran up, knocking lightly.

“Draco? I’m sorry for being so insensitive. You can’t hide what you feel behind this door forever. Hermione opened the door slowly, almost immediately something stopped her. She peered through a gap in the door and saw claw-like slashes made of fire floating in the air. Rage dying down with the fire on the letters, Draco stood and opened the door fully.

“I can’t go tomorrow. Not like this; the spell was so strong it’s almost lingered behind.”

“If you can’t go to the ball for me go for the sake of all future Slytherin and Gryffindor’s. Does that thought help you at all?”

 

Draco sighed and waved his hand about, forcing the last of the flaming letters to disappear.

“I’m sorry Hermione. I’m trying to do what I want but … I can’t just yet.”

“I told you already, you don’t have to sleep with me if you don’t want to.”

“But that’s just it: I do and you know it. I’m just worried that I’ll do something wrong and hurt you. I don’t want that.” Hermione’s mind was blank. _Hurt me?_

“Draco we don’t have to consummate the marriage if were not ready; I should be the one in your situation so let’s just choose whether or not to go.” Draco stood up and wrapped his arms around hers, pulling her close and setting his chin on her forehead. The embrace lasted for a lifetime, the pair worried that if one let go the other might run away. Draco’s lips met with Hermione’s forehead and she tried to initiate something more passionate by tilting her head further upward as they left her.

 

Draco knew she wanted him to kiss her again with passion, but he gave her a quick, fleeting kiss, the lack of his tongue against hers almost unbearable. This was a side of Hermione that she herself had never known existed and it even scared her a bit. They went to bed in silence, not saying anything. They were lost in their own little worlds of solitude once more; the torture had begun.


	13. Still Hiding Behind a Door Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione fixes an old dress for the Reunion Ball while Draco adjusts the suit he'd worn to the Yule Ball despite himself and they attend the ball.   
> What is the true connection between Draco and Katie Bell that he has been hiding for so long?

Hermione woke up that morning bright – a considerably early 5:30 – to find a dress she would gladly wear in front of her friends. After rummaging around for 20 minutes in the purse she found a bright red cocktail dress and used a spell to change its colour; now it was a pale but attractive orange. Satisfied with the colour, Hermione ventured to the kitchen and found a note from Narcissa.

 

_I’m glad to see that you’re getting him out of the house. Good luck and I hope everything turns out for the best._

_Your mother-in-law, by law, Narcissa._

 

Hermione giggled and found a plate with buttered toast sitting on the table, accompanied by a knife 3 small jars sitting in the middle. Narcissa’s plate sat empty with a few crumbs on it which she found curious. Turning the note over Hermione realised that she’d written on the back as well.

_PS Draco should be up soon after you’ve read this. I’ll be out of the way so you can both get ready._

 

While she contemplated what was on the note, Hermione was shocked to see a second plate appear on the table as Draco walked into the room.

“Sleep well Draco?” He said nothing and smiled weakly as if she would understand how he felt. Hermione raised her eyebrows and took on an almost offended tone.

“That wasn’t much of an answer.” Draco’s smiled widened and he walked over to her, draping his arms over her shoulders as their foreheads pressed against one another.

“It wasn’t the worst. I’ll go but I have to fix my suit.” Hermione kissed his nose and his huffed and laughed at the same time, looking into his eyes. He returned the kiss on her cheek, wishing he would come back. Instead he kept walking away and moved his plate next to hers.

 

“Well I guess we should eat and get to work, right?” Draco seemed genuinely happy to get started on the suit that she hadn’t noticed him quickly grab the plain toast and leave. She just stood there in the doorway smiling as he left, failing to follow him with her gaze as she usually did. The moment his footsteps were gone her face became the epitome of the growing sadness between them. He was happy, but his acting skills were so hopeless that she’d seen through it. _He’s only doing it for me._ Hermione sat down and pulled in her chair, dropping a small lump of raspberry jam onto her toast and spreading it out as thinly as she could so that it would reach the edges. Repeating the process for the other piece she ate them quickly, eager to see what she and Draco create before they had to leave. With only magic and basic sewing skills, Hermione had a bad feeling about her dress but could only wonder what lessons Draco had when it came to mending clothing.

 

5:50

 

Hermione was staring at her finished work, analysing every seam and small stitch to be sure that it would hold together. Using a spell to replicate the dress, she’d managed to gather enough material to make a long skirt, carefully removing the older, shorter one to use as a template. Now it was wider at the open end and reached down past her shins, almost touching the floor. Hermione marvelled at the strapless creation with a wavy texture around the chest area, using a spell to make it heat up and crimple to create a swirl toward one shoulder. Now it was complete and she was wearing it, having eaten a sandwich and almost dropping a small spot of mayonnaise onto it which would have ruined it for her. Draco came downstairs to see her in it sitting on the small lounge, putting on a pair of flat white shoes. Hermione turned and saw him in all his glory, a black suit, pale green shirt, **those** black lace-up shoes and a tie that was slowly shifting form red to an orange that matched her dress.

 

He was stowing his wand away in a concealed pocket of his long sleeve, walking toward her as she stood, the flats far more comfortable than she had previously thought. He put out his hand and turned her around, the dress fanning out a little as she spun. The smile on his face warmed her heart and his naturally happy voice didn’t sound as put on anymore. Things were looking good, but if he saw Katie… the night could go very differently for them both.

“You look gorgeous in that dress; too bad the other one had to go.” Hermione grinned and stared at the tie.

“How long does the colour-changing charm last?” Draco looked at his tie and thought seriously for a moment, his eyes moving back to Hermione when he finished his calculations.

“About 2 o’clock in the morning. It mimics the colour of the dress you’re wearing because it’s attracted to the colour in the same way that I’m attracted to you.”

 

“I’m practically wearing a mood tie around my neck.” Draco looked at the clock and his smile disappeared for a second as his mind wandered. _Here’s hoping she doesn’t figure out what each colour means or else I’m toast…_

“Well, we’d better get going otherwise they’ll miss us.” Draco wrapped an arm around that of his wife and they both apparated into the Great Hall, their minds barely comprehending what they could see. There were only six people in the room, all talking quietly to themselves until they saw the Ferret himself with Hermione on his arm. Ron was with Katie Bell and she immediately swallowed hard when she saw Draco. His eyes gave it away first, but the change of his tie from pale orange to a deep blue was all the convincing that Hermione needed. She aimed them to the right and they walked toward Ron and Katie, Hermione keeping a small smile on her face.

 

Ron smiled in return, shaking hands with Draco and hugged Hermione afterward. He let her go quickly and Katie avoided looking at Draco as Ron started the idle chit-chat.

“Been giving you hell has she Malfoy?” Draco didn’t dare make eye contact with Katie, but she continued to glance from Hermione to his face as she mustered up the courage to speak.

“Why don’t you go talk to Harry and Ginny and thank them for me? I’ll start off the conversation before you finish it.” Though Katie seemed to be calm, her inner voice was screaming to run.

“Okay. You two had better not annoy her…” Ron leaned in and whispered to Draco and Hermione as if they had known.

“… otherwise she’ll make my married life a living hell.” Hermione held back a laugh at the thought of Ron landing a Ravenclaw as his partner for 5 years of his life.

 

Thankfully he wasn’t wearing a hand-me-down suit and had become rather dapper with a dark orange shirt plus black pants and shoes like Draco’s. Katie was wearing a knee-length dress that was a similar design to the one she’d worn to the Yule Ball with thin lace over the upper half of the dress; the addition of glittering Swarovski crystals around the skirts edges surprised Hermione a little in contrast to its deep blue colour.

“Your dress is amazing; did you recycle it form the Yule Ball?”

“No, no, I um… went home a couple of weeks ago so Ron could meet my parents and he…” Katie could barely breathe and she was feeling rather dizzy. From across the room Neville trotted over with Lune in front of him by a couple of feet.

“Are you okay Katie? Did you get bitten by something?”

 

“No Luna, I’m fine.” Proving that she was a terrible liar, Katie fell forward unconsciously and Draco caught her, arms wrapped around her torso. Ginny, Harry and Ron all rushed over, shock running across their faces as Draco removed the black top covering his shirt to make a pillow for Katie. He lowered her to the ground and glanced down at her with tears in his eyes.

“I told you I shouldn’t have come here. All I ever do is cause trouble.” Draco stormed away without another word, Hermione watching him stalk away.

“Should we take her somewhere else? Maybe the Infirmary would be a better place to leave her.” Everyone glared at Neville and he raised his eyebrows and hands defensively.

“I was only making a suggestion.” Luna placed a hand on one of his arms and he put them down as her grip got a little heavier. She always knew what to do to calm him down.

 

“We need to take Malfoy away from here; bloody git loves being the centre of attention.” Hermione slapped Ron hard, taking a moment to reminisce about the time she had hit Draco that hard, even coming to the conclusion that this was the better of the two.

“Ronald Weasley if you had half a heart and half a brain you’d know that he had his own problems to deal with!” Ron was still recuperating from the hit and rubbed his cheek.

“And what problem would that be? It’s definitely not money or his lifestyle.” Ginny grabbed Ron by the back of his shirt and pulled him away, spilling forth everything that Hermione had told her and what she had seen when Harry took her to visit them, her tone deep and quiet enough that only he could hear her. His face slowly morphed from anger through to pure shock. Now he was close to tears, his face pulling into an expression of sadness.

 

Hermione saw it and – though she thought it impossible – her heart broke that little more.

“Hermione, what I said was stupid and I apologise. I’m sorry for what I said about Draco.” Katie opened her eyes and Luna bent over her, hand cupping her cheek.

“Do you know where you are Katie?”

“Yes, I’m in the Great Hall.” Katie sat up and nearly head-butted Luna when she realised that Draco was gone. _Where is he?_

“Where’d he go?” Hermione held her eyes at the same level as Katie’s keeping them locked on her reflection in the Ravenclaw’s pupils.

“Why did you faint? Tell us why and we’ll leave it at that.” Katie stood up slowly with Hermione’s held and they all sat at the Slytherin tables.

“Well, it started a few years ago…”

 

Next chapter will be a bit weird so hold on for the romance.  


	14. Sexual Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione kiss but this one is a little different now that his secret it out.

Hermione had listened to half the story, absorbing every piece of information relevant to her; the rest she tried to push to the back of her mind. She was analysing fact and making sense of it all, running down the halls of the castle as she searched for her husband.

 

_“Draco was alone at the ball after the girl he asked to go with him started dancing with somebody else; he was disappointed so I sat down and talked with him despite all of the glares I got form the other Ravenclaw girls. It turned out that he was intelligent enough to be a Ravenclaw and he impressed me so much that I barely thought about anything else. His intelligence drew me in at first but then I noticed his hair, his eyes, just **him**. After a long chat he walked me to my common room and kissed me on the cheek but I didn’t let him go. We snogged for a few minutes in my room and… well let’s just say neither of us left that room a virgin.” The looks that Katie received were of utter disbelief, Ron unable to speak for the first time in his life._

_“Before he left he apologised to me and said that his mind had been on somebody else while we were ‘going at it’. He cast a spell on himself outside of my room and we hadn’t spoken since then. When I saw him after I got back from St Mungo’s I wasn’t just looking at him because I recognised him; it was because I had figured out who he liked and I still felt like he had no feelings for me whatsoever. You’re the one he loves Hermione. Go and find him before he does something stupid or ambitious.”_

Hermione rounded a corner and saw Draco sitting up against an empty wall, head hung over his knees as he led them to his chest.

“Go back to the party. Please.” As he raised his head to gaze at Hermione she could see the tears staining his face.

“Katie’s fine and I know what happened. She even wanted me to come and find you, to be with you.” Draco stood and edged away from the wall.

 

“What I did was wrong; I didn’t hurt Katie but everybody knows my dirty little secret now, don’t they? Draco Malfoy was in love with a Muggle since he started school and decided to fuck a different girl of Pure-Blood lineage to avoid being true to his own heart; that's one legacy I’d love to see in writing.” Hermione’s face fell as she heard the f-word fall from his lips.

“We can leave if you want to: we’ll forget that we came here and go home. You can have your room to yourself and I’ll sleep somewhere else until you – ”

 

Draco didn’t let Hermione finish her sentence. He crushed their lips together and let his hands wrap around her waist, the heel of his hand pressing her toward him. Hermione’s threw her arms over his neck as Draco deepened the kiss, wishing that there was a way he could break the vow he’d made; no intimacy until she agreed on staying in his room on Sunday. He was ready to have her up against the wall with the way she moaned under the assault of his tongue but he pulled himself away slowly, Hermione planting a kiss on his cheek.

 

She tried to trail it down his jawline toward his neck but he held her at arm’s length.

“Sunday.” With the single word spoken Hermione found that she was standing in the sitting room with Draco, his hand leaving hers. She didn’t even remember holding onto it. In a huff she went to their room and attempted to open the door. He didn’t let her in until he was in bed and fully clothed. He was secretly wishing away another embarrassing erection, tears sliding from his eyes. There was no way that she’d sleep with him now; not when he was the monster she had always thought him to be.

 

Some intense snogging to keep you warm at night XD The next chapter will skip to Sunday so be prepared for some fun!


	15. A Night To Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione will share a bed but will they share everything in it?

Sunday had come and Draco didn’t feel like eating. He had practically raped Hermione’s mouth with his tongue and he didn’t deserve her. The way she froze up and had gingerly given him something like a reply with moans that he thought sounded put on worried him. She hadn’t come into contact with him until the morning and it was only to eat breakfast, Narcissa announcing that she would be leaving for the weekend.

“You both have much to discuss; I leave today so you have the house to yourselves.” Hermione had also been avoiding him but it was only because she needed him to know that his actions would not influence the answer. She saw him go into the bathroom and quickly followed, knocking on the door gently.

“Draco, I’ve made my decision. Can I tell you now or should I wait a little while longer?” On the other side of the door Draco was racing to wrap a towel around his slender waist, wanting to be somewhat decent if Hermione had to look at him.

 

“If you give me the chance to apologise.” Hermione’s brow furrowed and she smiled.

“Why do you need to apologise to me? You already did that when I came here.”

“Not for that, for kissing you the way I did.” Draco was confused – to say the least – when Hermione began laughing.

“Are you kidding? It was beautiful! Didn’t you hear me moan like… um, whatever moans the way I did.” Draco opened the door and Hermione’s eyes immediately dropped to the towel, tracing a line up his abdomen and neck to meet his intent gaze.

“What’s your decision?” Hermione pulled lightly on the door and Draco let her open it fully, his vast hairless chest attracting her attention a little longer than she had expected. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’ll be with you tonight, in the bed, as your wife. I’d hop in the bath with you but I don’t think your mother would appreciate it.”

 

Overwhelmed, Draco leaned forward and captured Hermione’s cheek, bending a little to place his lips on hers. Forgetting to hold the towel up, Draco’s other hand made its way to the small of Hermione’s back, towel falling at his feet. Draco tried to pull back but Hermione put a hand on his bare back, the other sitting on his shoulder. She kept her eyes closed and pulled back as he replaced the towel, letting them move away when he cleared his throat. He smiled at his feet and raised his head, their eyes meeting.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes Hermione.”

“See you then Draco.” Hermione left the doorway and went to their shared bedroom, calling out to Moggy. The creature didn’t need to be told what to do, ridding Hermione of the small bed and extending Draco’s side by a whole metre. Now instead of a thin single bed they would be in a three quarter – the largest that could possibly fit in without squashing the bedside table against Draco’s wardrobe.

 

Hermione hurriedly dress herself down and put on a shirt and underwear, hoping the added nakedness would be a little more alluring for Draco to sleep next to. She sat up in the bed waiting for him, feet tucked under the blankets to escape the cold. Draco came in with a dark green singlet and the black shorts he enjoyed wearing so much, his expression changing when he saw her in the bed.

“I um… never realised how good you look in my bed. Does that sound weird to you?” Hermione raised the covers and scooted toward the wall.

“Get in before you hurt yourself.” Draco smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, his cold feet brushing one warm calf muscle. She squeaked and he pushed against the back of her leg, making sure to wriggle them and make the cold spread.

“Stop! Stop! That’s freezing!” Draco smiled and kissed her neck, surprising Hermione so much that she couldn’t hide the way her legs instinctively closed together. Draco rolled her over to face his and placed a hand on her hips below the blankets, rolling the covers down so that their upper halves were uncovered he let his hand slide between her shoulder blades.

 

He used it to press her closer to his body, feeling her chest against his. Hermione’s legs were still sealed and he knew she was having fun, but not the kind he wanted her to have. He stole a kiss and dragged his mouth down her jawline, a hand sneaking to the front of her body. His hand was getting rather close to Hermione’s…

“What are you doing?” Draco smiled and put a finger under the side of her underwear, the uncertain look on her face making him worry. _I’m going too quickly aren’t I? Did I do something wrong?_ Hermione almost knocked him out when she initiated the kiss, the vigour of the kiss putting him in the same position as her: the pressure was mounting. Hermione felt something prod at her lower stomach and ran a hand along Draco’s stomach, stopping to rub her hand along the bump in his shorts. He tensed and his breath hitched, the object twitching under her fingertips. Draco tried to move her hand away but instead she made him pull her panties over her hips, his hand slipping between her thighs.

 

At the same time their hands found bare skin and both parties gave a quiet gasp. Hermione was holding Draco in her hand, sliding up and down in a steady rhythm while he ran his middle finger along the most intimate parts of her body. Much as he enjoyed Hermione’s pace, she wasn’t holding on tightly enough to him and she left him with no choice but to say it.

“Would you mind tightening your hand a bit?” Despite feeling as though it would hurt him, Hermione obeyed and Draco moan a little louder, confirming that he was enjoying this more. He finally mustered up the courage to push a finger into her and the tender muscles around it easily let him move forward. When she heard Draco’s breathing become quiet, Hermione tightened her grip a little and moved her hand faster, the one between her legs now moving forward and back. In a few minutes they were kissing each other’s neck as their hands moved, one to please the other. Hermione felt something rippling through her stomach – the unfamiliar sensation of a building orgasm – and told Draco to stop. She ceased moving her hand and he found himself wanting to grind into her hand for friction.

 

He managed to stop himself and asked her what she was feeling, the explanation taking a while longer than he’d expected. The way she stuttered on the more inappropriate words she hated to say – it was gorgeous. Draco laughed and Hermione just sat with her hand on him, his hand resuming its work. Hermione followed suit and he knew he was close. She was practically on par with his own level of arousal, the natural lubrication from her body proving it.

“That means I’m doing the right thing: soon it’ll be even better. Just try to keep calm and not panic too much, okay?” Hermione nodded and they kissed until their need for air grew too strong. Under her hand Hermione felt Draco’s body tense and something warm spurted onto her stomach and hand. Judging by the mixture of a growl and a moan escaping from his mouth along with her name, Draco was experiencing an orgasm. Hermione clutched onto his shoulders as his finger thrusted in just the right direction, the feeling spreading through her body and overwhelming her senses. In seconds she was moaning into his ear – moaning his name – and clenching unfamiliar muscles around the single digit.

 

Whatever it was it felt too good to be real. Draco kissed Hermione and she was shocked to find that when he removed his finger, she could still feel the reverberations run through her nerves. It felt as though her body was trying to put itself back together after falling apart. Draco smiled and cast a cleaning spell, every bodily fluid leaving their skin except for their sweat and secretions that came from within their bodies. Hermione said nothing and smiled sheepishly, finally saying something when they weren’t breathing loudly.

“Well that was interesting.” Draco pulled her against him, thinking to replace his shorts while she attempted to find her underwear. He stopped her and shook his head.

“Leave it: after this I don’t think there’s any shame in nudity.”

“Was I any good? Um… if you don’t mind me asking?” Draco snorted as he stifled an obnoxious laugh. _Merlin you’re innocent…_

“You really are a virgin aren’t you? Of course you were good; I’d like to think that I was the same.” Hermione nodded with a wry smile.

“Goodnight Draco.” Draco kissed his wife on the cheek before she turned over, her gorgeous back facing him. He flung an arm over her chest and slid right up against her, his inner elbow locking in place over her arm.

“Goodnight Hermione.”

 

It is just me or is it getting hot in here?! I will be attending a confessional for an entire month after I finish writing it.  


	16. An Eventful Evening Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gives Hermione a proposal that she cannot refuse: how will this encounter end?

Hermione woke the next morning to see Draco’s pyjamas folded on his bedside table, the bed now feeling so empty without him. Thinking over the night, she wondered why Narcissa hadn’t woken her – or Draco himself – for that matter. On top of the pyjamas was a piece of paper that had been folded in half and had another sitting inside of it like a Babushka doll. She read the first one, putting the stowaway paper on the pyjamas as she read it.

 

_Dear Draco and Hermione,_

_I apologise for the confusion: I had meant to say week, not weekend. I hope you enjoy the quality time together._

_Love from your mother,_

_Narcissa._

 

Hermione smirked and picked up the other one, noticing how similar the handwriting was. It didn’t take long for her eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates at what was written inside.

 

_Hermione,_

_I feel guilty about last night. I know we both enjoyed ourselves but I’m worried about the fact that we haven’t even seen each other properly. We just fumbled under the blankets. Meet me in the bathroom when you wake up fully. I’ll be waiting._

_Love Draco_

Hermione sighed and plopped down onto the bed, more than shocked. _He wants to see me nude?! No clothes, no lingerie… in my birthday suit? This is absurd._ Hermione breathed in and out slowly, calming herself a little to avoid a feeling that had begun to roll over in her stomach. It was a dull – perhaps even weakened – version of the pleasure she had felt last night. However, it was starting to rise and her skin felt a little warm. She shrieked at the idea of what it was, ashamed to say the least. Draco had heard and came in from the bathroom, still completely dressed.

“Are you okay?” Hermione’s face was flushed in embarrassment and she pretended not to notice it at all. Of course, it just happened to be the only thing on her mind.

“I’m fine. Just feeling a little queasy because I haven’t eaten anything. Want to join me for breakfast?” He smiled warmly and walked over to her, arms wrapping around the tiny shoulders of his wife. In his mind he could say it, but not aloud. Not as much or as well as he should.

“I already ate while you were sleeping. I had a look at our wands and nothing is out of the ordinary.

 

“I thought we could go down to the cellar and test out all the spells we know to see if something’s changed in the spells they cast.” Hermione nodded and smiled, making her way downstairs. On the dining room table she found a bowl of porridge sitting there, honey drizzled over the large oats. She looked down the hallway and smiled.

“Thank you Moggy.” The house elf appeared in the hallway, waved, went back into the room and closed the door with a click of his fingers. Hermione thought nothing of it and went to her breakfast, eating it slowly as she mulled over her body’s reaction to Draco hugging her. Though she wanted to dispel the idea that she – Hermione Jean Granger – was experiencing the feeling of horniness, she knew that she couldn’t. She never felt it before and all the things she’d felt last night were new to her, so what else could it be? Draco hugging her had made it worse, just by the smell of his clothing, his hair… **him** in general. Shaking her head to clear her mind, Hermione finished breakfast and went upstairs to the bedroom, picking out a plain black bra and black underwear to make it look as though she had a matching pair.

 

As far as she was concerned nobody would look at them; there was no need for them to be fancy. It was in this moment that she mulled over the idea of going to the cellar first – to see what was different about their wands – but the feeling of want had been touching at her mind for so long that she finally let it in. She had given in to temptation and slid a thin, silky mauve bath robe over her half-naked flesh. Perhaps she would impress him with her curves before he got a good look at them. Hermione cautiously knocked on the bathroom door and Draco opened it once again, smiling down and her cheekily. Usually the smile would make her want to punch him the way she had in front of Ron and Harry years ago but somehow it seemed different. It wasn’t a smile out of puffed-up pride or to be demeaning: he was telling her how much he appreciated the lack of heavy clothing to remove. He was, however, completely dressed as before.

“I thought you’d be dressing down too?”

“I will, but first you need to come in here with me.”

 

Draco put out a hand and Hermione took it, the tall man leading her in and closing the door. When she heard him lock the door with a spell she knew that he meant business. In a shy but rather sensual way, he slid his shirt over his head, white hair becoming ruffled in the process. He smiled and gestured to the robe.

“Now you.” Draco leaned against the door and watched as Hermione pulled at one of the sashes on her robe, the flimsy fabric falling apart instantly. She avoided eye contact with his as she moved it away from her body and let it pool on the floor. Draco let his eyes scan over her chest, her thighs, and every other part of her she hadn’t let him see: the matching underwear and bra came as the biggest surprise of all.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked to leave yet.” Hermione grinned.

“Your turn.” Draco slid his pants off and let her see the lump in his boxers that had begun to grow larger the longer they analysed each other.

 

The heat in her body hadn’t subsided either.

“Last layer: who’s going first?” Draco gestured toward the bath and Hermione realised that it had been filled with hot water. Being as brave a soul as she could manage, Hermione faced the tub and removed her bra, quickly followed by her underwear. Taking care not to bend over, the Gryffindor put her feet into the tub and sat on the edge facing a bare, tiled wall. She heard a small plop from behind her and figured that Draco had taken off the boxers. In moments he had put his own feet in the tub and didn’t dare to look in her direction. When the cold had begun to creep across his erection, Draco cut through the silence in the bathroom.

“Would you be able to remind me as to why we’re still sitting here?” Hermione glanced down into her lap and her nervousness grew until a hand ventured to take her hand.

“Get in the water at least Hermione. You’re shivering.” Hermione stared into his eyes, unable to look down as he slid in before her, catching sight of her nipples sticking out at the feeling of the cool air surrounding them both.

 

Realising that he could look down at the parts of her body that he had been touching only yesterday night any moment, she slid in and almost fell into the warm-hot water. _What was… what **is** he planning to do?_ Draco edged closer to Hermione and she froze, amazingly aware of how lust-filled his eyes were. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she tensed up a little, arms quickly jumping over her chest. Draco pulled her next to him in the wide rectangle and threw an arm around her shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” Hermione shook her head.

“No… I’m just really shy. Nobody’s ever seen me naked.” Draco smiled and looked down at the arms crossed protectively over her breasts.

“Tell you what: close your eyes, move your arms and I’ll tell you what I think. If you’re comfortable enough you can lay back and show me the rest.” He winked and Hermione laughed nervously, shutting her eyes.

 

Draco moved around so that he was kneeling with his knees by her hips, hands slowly moving down her arms to meet her wrists. He gently moved her arms away and laid his eyes on the stiff nipples he had seen, the tiny buds a delicious pale pink. Her chest was of an average size – not the biggest he’d ever seen – but they were still beautiful in their own way. He cursed his anatomy for betraying him, an erection slowly building upon the pressure in his groin. His body wanted her again, needed to feel her again… maybe it was for the best if he left. Draco looked away and moved as far from her as he could, forgetting to say what he thought. Hermione was gobsmacked. How could he just move away without a word, knowing full well that she was in her most vulnerable form?

“Are they really that bad?” She whispered to herself and as she thought to open her eyes, felt a light pressure on her partially covered abdomen: it was a hand.

“Can I ask you something Hermione?” She kept her eyes closed and didn't dare to move herself anywhere.

“Yes Draco?”

 

She breathed, only now realising that her anticipation had stopped her lungs form pulling in air. Her body trembled as the hand left her stomach and was suddenly on her neck.

Draco gulped lightly, making an almost inaudible sound as the hand pressed over one of Hermione’s now-exposed breasts.

“Will you look at me?” Hermione bravely opened her eyes and saw what she had her hand wrapped around the previous night. Needless to say, no picture in a book could explain what she found before her in the flesh - no pun intended.  _That is supposed to fit inside of me? No wonder women come back from a one night stand walking like drunkards!_ Hermione looked up into Draco’s eyes. The skin of her cheeks became a deep shade of red as shocked expression appeared on her face. Her mouth was hanging open a little and he thought that it was absolutely adorable.

“Wow… I um… I don’t know what to say. The last time I saw one of those it was a medical and very scientific diagram, not the real thing.” Draco smirked. His hand moved up her chest and grasped the base of her neck lightly.

 

He trailed kisses down her neck, the placed a few on her chest. It was there, in that moment that she really knew what that feeling in her groin was telling her to do. She pushed him back gently and swapped places with him, his back now pressed up against the tub in an almost defenceless way. He was so submissive it was scary. However, Draco was on the opposite side of the fence: he found her dominant side to be all the more entertaining and oh so arousing... this could only end well for the two of them.

 

Part 2 is on the way: good luck sleeping tonight XD


	17. An Eventful Evening Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knows what's going to happen so enjoy it while it lasts XD

Part 2 is here: I still wish you good night because I doubt you’ll **want** to fall asleep...

 

Draco took delight in the kiss Hermione gave him, venturing as far as to sit in his lap. His erection was flush against her abdomen and she tried not to look worried. So far she was winning.

“Since when do I have to submit to you?” Hermione grinned at his horrid overacting.

“You could always overpower me Draco.” Water dripped from Hermione as she slipped away from him and left the bath. Wrapping a towel about herself, she made her way back to the bedroom and slipped comfortably beneath the blankets when she was dry. Draco walked in, having dressed into a mere pair of boxers and towelled off his hair. Hermione saw his eyes drop to her chest, completely bared to his eyes. Judging by the way the dark green fabric had grown to look more like a tent; it had to be a nice view from where he stood. Draco snuck one of his legs between hers as he got into the bed, his body laid out above hers as the second leg slipped under the blankets.

 

He let them slide over his back and they stopped at the elastic edges of his boxers, keeping them half-covered.

“Tell me that you want this.” Hermione smiled and brought herself up to Draco’s lips, their tongues tracing lips and skin. When he got to the base of her neck, Hermione told him exactly what he had wanted to hear for a **long** time. At least, he had thought so.

“I don’t want this Draco.” He raised an eyebrow and it dropped when she smiled.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Hermione’s laughed and kissed him hard, talking against his lips.

“I want you.” He moaned and she smiled as his kissing grew in intensity, slowly dragging his mouth lower down her body. Soon he was kissing the inside of her thigh, legs shivering as she looked up at the ceiling. Her small whimpers spurned him on, his tongue finding her and beginning its work.

 

Out of a subconscious desire to feel more, Hermione let her hands run through Draco’s hair gently. He was growing pain fully hard but still appreciated the attention she had given him. He left her half-way to her peak and decided to pull away. When she did nothing to stop him, Draco tried to hide a smile. Hermione ran a hand down his back and pulled the boxers over his hips. With a wicked grin he took them past his feet and discarded it, raising an eyebrow.

“So, what’s next?” Hermione sat up on her elbows and whispered into his ear and Draco perked up a little.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” He smiled and Hermione gasped dramatically.

“I have never been so offended in my life!” Keeping the smile, Draco moved and let Hermione sit on his thighs, her face giving away her nervousness.

 

She looked down at him and leant forward, her hand running down his stomach to his member and he shifted a little at the unfamiliar contact. Hermione raised her hips and brought it out in front of herself, stroking it tenderly. Draco couldn’t think of who he should thank for this moment more: his mother, himself or the Ministry. He would never tell Hermione how many times he’d been cruel to her and then gone back to his dorm, only to put his hand where she had it now, performing exactly the same task. In an unexpected move, she raised her hips again and sat the tip against herself, preparing to slowly go down on him. Draco sat up and put a hand on her stomach.

“Wait, let me sit up.” Knowing full well that he should be there to comfort her if the pain became too strong, he decided to be her equal rather than a sympathetic bystander.

 

They were married and they should do this together instead of going it alone. Hermione didn’t move her hand but did sit up on her knees so that Draco could sit up, their bare chests touching. He moved her back form him a little and her face despite wanting nothing more than to feel her in every way that a man could a woman.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Hermione nodded.

“Of course I do Draco. What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t want this and just left you? I’m sure we both know that I’m not that kind of person.” Draco’s smiled widened and he kissed her harder than he had before, pulling her hand a little too eagerly toward his crotch. Hermione giggled as they moved apart and sat one hand on his shoulder, putting them in the position they had been earlier; this time his hands were on her hips to keep her steady and she slowly impaled herself.

 

The pain was so bittersweet. The more of him that went in, the more her body ached for it to go deeper. The pain was overwhelming but not enough that she cried – it made her predicament complicated to say the least. She was whimpering every now and then, suddenly stopped by Draco when he was half-way inside of her. For him this was also torturous: seeing his childhood crush grow weary and tied all so that they could be each other’s in mind and body. Their soul was their own to keep.

“Stop. You’re hurting yourself!” Hermione’s muscles were aching and she put a hand over her mouth, letting out a rather loud sob. Now that she had allowed herself the time to feel the pain, it was flooding into her mind and it became almost dizzying. Draco hugged her close and kissed the top of her head.

 

“Bloody fool. Need a hand?” Hermione nodded and he pulled himself out of her, something slick and warm on him. He looked down and felt guilt rush down and conquer his lust. There was blood on them both and it was enough to make him lose the smile. Hermione was confused and followed his eyes to the bright red colouration in his lap. She offered him her hand and pulled him toward her, the pair clinging to one another like they were going to fall if they let go.

“Let me do this Hermione.” Unable to deny him that request, Hermione moved her legs apart and Draco slowly moved himself forward. Every few seconds she would make a whimper and he would stop, only moving again when she said it was okay. Slowly but surely, He was all the way inside of her, their bodies pressed together like the pieces of a puzzle.

“How are you doing?” Hermione felt a single tear move out of the corner of her eye.

 

“Fine,” she lied. Draco shook his head.

“Hurt like hell didn’t it?” Hermione smiled weakly and locked lips with him, hoping it would wake them both up from the dreary mood that hung over their heads. Draco began to move his hips, being careful of the woman underneath him. Hermione kissed his jaw and he sped up, moving a little too slowly for her liking.

“The pain’s gone now Draco: if you want to you can be a little rougher than that.” He didn’t smile but judging by the small groan and the way he bucked into her sharply, he had wanted her to say that. After a short while Hermione swapped their positions around and she was on top: in control. Draco was smiling now. With a confidence that only came from a lack of experience, Hermione moved up and down in a steady but fast rhythm.

 

Draco had his hands running across her hips, her stomach, her chest and even her back. They drank in the sight of their naked bodies, the sounds they made and the feeling of being together in every sense of the word. Hermione suddenly stopped and her body shuddered, a loan moan escaping her throat. Draco could feel her body tightening around his and he made an almost pained groan as he came inside Hermione. They sat there drenched in sweat, holding each other tightly with their eyes closed. How could the night get any better than this?

“I love you Draco,” Hermione whispered into his ear.

“I love you too Hermione.” They kissed and sat that way for a while longer, enjoying the warmth of their bodies. Suddenly Draco pulled away from his wife, looking at her questioningly.

 

“Weren’t we supposed to check our wands for changes in their casting?” Hermione nodded.

“We’ll have to check it tomorrow. I doubt I can stand up properly,” she jested. Draco laughed and they laid down together under the blankets. Giving Hermione a quick kiss on the forehead, Draco put an arm around her shoulder and let himself be used as a human pillow.

“Goodnight.” Hermione smiled and drifted off to sleep, Draco following behind.

 

 

I did it and I feel so glad I did: last chapter will explain what happened to the wands (maybe you’ve guessed already) plus a glimpse into the futures of all the non-canon couples I threw together. Thanks for the support everybody!


	18. Give Me A Happy Ending... Any Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco uncover the secret behind their wands odd behaviour and their happy ending comes out at last... along with all our other heroes.

Hermione woke up with her head nestled in Draco’s shoulder, his warm breath ghosting over her forehead. She could feel the moistness in between her thighs, a rather odd combination of lust and pain all coiled inside of her body. Apparently last night had been a little less magical than she’d imagined it to be, but in the end they had both found a way to make it work: love and compassion had certainly played a part in it. In a small moment of panic, she realised that they had slept through the night and had a whole day to test every spell they knew using their wands. If something was wrong, casting spells was the only way to see what had changed. Rushing downstairs in a pair of Draco’s shorts and one of her tops, Hermione found the table with toast and spreads as it had been set out many times before.

 

She sighed and shook her head. _Why am I so frazzled?_ Taking it in her stride, Hermione sat down and spread butter and jam on one piece of toast, downing it quickly so she could brush her teeth and get her wand from the drawer. If Draco didn’t want to get up he didn’t have to. Just as Hermione stood up to leave the kitchen the man himself ran into her and he jumped a little, not expecting his wife to be the early morning type.

“Morning,” he said quietly, giving Hermione a hug.

Though she hadn’t expected him to be up, Hermine obliged and gently let her arms fold around his neck. Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and let him go.

“I was about to go try out my wand and see what that strange glow was all about,” she said as she fought off the urge to kiss him.

 

In her mind, Hermione was thinking about the night before and the passion they had shared. The fact that she could barely get over the pain to see what good had come of it definitely proved how fragile they were, albeit Draco seemed to understand what was wrong and correct it. _He’s always been intelligent_ , Hermione thought, _and that’s the only thing I used to admire about him_.

“Come on then, I’m not really that hungry anyway,” Draco said eagerly.

Hermione watched him disappear into their now-shared room and emerge with their wands. Hermione stood below Draco while he was at the top of the stairs and he carefully let the wand go, her reflexes proving to be as sharp as her wit.

“We’ll cast spells in the cellar,” Draco said almost immediately after Hermione caught her wand, “don’t want to go scaring the neighbours.”

 

“I was thinking the same thing,” she replied with a smile.

Descending the familiar, foul-smelling stairs, Hermione remembered what Draco was like when she’d first entered his home; weak, frail, a shell of his former self. Now when she saw him he was strong, proud and a lot less prudish than he had been in the past. Smiling to herself, Hermione walked into the cellar and hugged Draco from behind, sitting her head against one shoulder blade.

“Hi,” Draco said as he looked over his shoulder, “I didn’t realise I’d gone anywhere.”

Hermione laughed and walked in front of him.

“Should we cast them at the same time?” Hermione asked.

“I’d say so,” Draco answered quickly, moving to one side of the room while his wife stood on the other.

 

“Ready?” he said in preparation.

Hermione nodded and the casting began. For a full two hours they cast spells until their throats were hoarse and their arms wouldn’t stay up for them to cast another. Hermione slumped down against the wall with sweat beading across her forehead, Draco in the same predicament a few metres away. Hermione was going over the spells in her head and realised that there was one they had both overlooked.

“We haven’t cast the Patronus Charm!” she said aloud excitedly.

With a suddenly renewed strength, Hermione and Draco stood, pointing their wands toward the warn wall.

 

“On the count of three Hermione,” he said sternly, “1…2…3…” and in the same instant they said:

“Expecto Patronum!”

In that instant their Patronus’ leapt into the air, an otter and ferret. The otter and ferret were suspended in the air and circled one another for a moment, as if to start a fight. Suddenly the otter began to glow, the luminescence growing until Draco and Hermione had to shield their eyes. When the glow disappeared the otter was gone and in its place was a second ferret.

“Well at least I’m not the only bouncing ferret at Hogwarts,” Draco joked, earning himself a slap on the shoulder from Hermione.

He caught her wrist and pulled her close, keeping her tight against him.

“And she’s a bit wild when she wants to be,” he whispered and Hermione smiled.

“You know what my Patronus changing means don’t you?” Hermione asked him, their lips centimetres away from each other.

“No,” Draco said honestly, “I don’t.”

“It means we belong together,” she said with a grin and embraced her husband, giving him a kiss that would likely take his breath away.

 

Ten Years Later…

 

Ron and Katie were standing with Luna and Neville on the platform with their children. Ron was talking to Hugo with his light eyes and dark skin, while Neville and Luna were talking to their daughter Daisy – of fair hair and skin – who seemed to be quite taken with the young man. Trailing behind were Ginny and Harry with his son Albus and his daughter Lily, the former with hair like his fathers while his little sister kept the looks of their mother and Uncle Ron. In the distance they could all see Hermione with a baby in her arms and a young boy jogging ahead of her with Draco. The daughter Nymph in her arms was born a Squib but Hermione knew that potions didn’t require magic; just knowledge. Their lively son Luke however was quite strong when it came to magic. While casting a spell to show his deceased grandfather the little boy had almost burned the painting he resided in.

 

Rather than shouting as Hermione had expected, Lucius merely smiled.

“You’ve both done well raising your children… far better than I ever did.”

Hermione looked upon that moment as Lucius’ blessing of their marriage, as the next day his image did not move, nor did it speak. Despite Narcissa’s best spell casting, he did not return. He had obviously found what he needed in this life and moved on. As she waved goodbye to Luke, Draco moved the small edge of the blanket wrapping nymph up to look at her face.

“Otters or ferrets?” he asked comically, waving to their son one last time.

“It doesn’t matter which one they are,’ she said hopefully, “as long as they don’t repeat our mistakes.”

 

THE END


End file.
